


For the Love of Undertum

by MaruMaruOwl



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underswap, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Burping, Feeding, Human!Sans, Humanizations, Mpreg, Multi, One Shot Collection, Stuffing, Trans Female Character, Weight Gain, trans lady Sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaruMaruOwl/pseuds/MaruMaruOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all the short fics I've written by request from Tumblr. Everything is "undertum" and involves, in some way, a skeleton (or a lizard) with a big belly! I've decided to compile these here for easier reading. Please note that I'm not accepting any more requests at this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Testing Tasting

**Author's Note:**

> Request fic for sanscutetum (whose account is now defunct) 
> 
> A newly human Sans discovers his favorite human dining spot.
> 
> The design of human Sans was based on their interpretation and not my personal one.

**Testing Tasting**

The excitement, the thrill of it all shivered through his body, buzzing to the ends of his nerves. His _nerves_. Nerves encased in skin. His _skin_. 

Even though it had been a week since his shocking, jarring transformation, Sans the former skeleton was still getting adjusted to his new body–his new, soft flesh, his innards, his organic senses. And today…oh, today he was trying out another little something new. 

This afternoon, he’d snuck out to a little place in the nearest shopping plaza, all by himself. An interesting place that was known as an “all-you-can-eat buffet”. He’d been wanting to eat at this place as soon as he’d seen it, but he’d never had the opportunity until now. The cashier woman had given him an odd look to see him dining alone…but it was a thousand times better than seeing her screaming or passing out on the spot. 

Sans still felt a little awkward, walking through a crowd of humans without a single one batting an eye at him. But no one looked twice at the pudgy young man with chestnut skin and fluffy black hair, tucked into a corner booth. His ribcage-patterned tee-shirt was just as inconspicuous–no one would ever guess that it was once real, exposed bone. 

And no one, not even Frisk, had ever expected the two skeletons to generate human bodily casings upon passing through the Barrier. Though Sans was gradually getting used to it, Papyrus was still having a rough time, and sometimes, he worried that he’d never truly accept his humanity. Also, he’d never understand how his brother could despise this… 

One of the most interesting new sensations Sans had experienced since…was eating. Tasting, consuming in this new body…it was frankly amazing. Papyrus couldn’t stand eating human food, but Sans…Sans couldn’t wait to try as much of it as he could. 

This establishment was a gold mine–long counters stretched through the middle of the room, loaded with all manner of warm, tantalizing edibles, some of which were entirely new to him. He couldn’t imagine any of the others joining him on this adventure, but he’d made up his mind to have a wonderful time, anyway. 

With a silent chuckle, Sans excitedly approached the spread, taking an available plate from a stack below and surveying his options. As a human, did he also possess determination? It sure felt as if he did, and he committed himself to trying at least a little bit of everything available, a fluttering sensation blooming in his chest. 

His first plate was heavy in his hands as he made his way back to his seat, and he was practically grinning to himself. The stretch at his plush cheeks as he formed a legitimate smile somehow made him even happier. Mounds and mounds of brand-new foods and foods that had been rare in the Underground were heaped in front of him, and the sight alone was staggering. He glanced around for just a moment, noticing that no one was really paying attention to him…and then, he eagerly dove in. 

The sight was incredible, sure, but the taste…oh, the _taste_! Even now, Sans was astounded with his taste buds. Of course, he’d tasted things before…but this…everything felt magnified tenfold. The sweets were sweeter, the tarts tarter, the spice even spicier. Small bursts of flavor filling his senses, tickling delight with every bite. He couldn’t help beaming as he ate, private joy as he worked his way through. Hamburg steak, mashed potatoes, buttered corn, creamy mushroom stew, barbecue chicken, lemon breaded fish, steamy broccoli stalks, macaroni and cheese, small hot dog bites coated in batter, a slice of pepperoni and green pepper pizza, a cup of mixed fruits… 

Sans pressed a napkin to his lips, pushing on the softness, and covering a small burp. The plate sat, scraped clean before him, and he was disappointed that it was over already…but, twinging in anticipation, he knew that he was only halfway done with their incredible selection. And he already felt full. 

His stomach was no longer creating that strange little gnawing feeling of hunger…instead, it just felt…slightly heavier. But the small bit of weight was very, very pleasant…and it almost urged him on. More. It had to have more. 

His second plate was just as heavily loaded as the first, and when he returned to his seat, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the old, empty one, along with his empty soda glass, had been cleared away, as if they’d never even been there. What excellent service…the human world sure had some amazing places. 

And then, he resumed–more food, more new experiences, more explosive sensations dancing in his mouth, pushing down into his body. 

Something else Sans loved about eating was his _tongue_. Folding the squishy muscle over and around bites of food, feeling them out, letting the yummy flavors roll around, or holding them in place and sucking them out. He slurped the juice out of a slice of watermelon, chuckling to feel a little bit of it dribble onto his chin. Having all of this at once…it was so, so much more than he’d ever imagined. 

More and more tasty mouthfuls passed his smiling lips… soft garlic breadsticks, savory meatballs, turkey smothered in ranch sauce and bacon bits, extra-crispy curled fries, rice and veggies tossed together, soft beans in a rich marinade, mozzarella bites stuffed with stringy cheese, crunchy onion rings, even a taco with hot sauce… All of it was just so, so good. 

“Mmmph…” Sans mumbled, his cheeks full of cheesy bites. He’d suddenly noticed something. His stomach was beginning to ache–a slight tuggy feeling, heavier, fuller. The waistband of his shorts was pinching painfully into it. This wasn’t unfamiliar to him…but the sensation of being this overfull as a _human_ was…a bit different. All the food inside of him felt heavier, more solid. It wasn’t just magic energy anymore, after all. He really shouldn’t overdo it on the human food like this, but… 

_All you can eat_ , he remembered this place was called. _Why not eat all you can?_  

With a heavy swallow, he reached down, adjusting his shorts at his hips and softly patting at his belly, feeling how firm and weighty it was underneath the top layer of flesh. And very soon after…the second plate was empty. 

He felt…stretched. His tummy roundly pushing out further than it had before. A bit of warmth prickled onto his cheeks when he felt that his shirt had risen slightly…and he couldn’t pull it down enough to cover his bellybutton. Gosh, he was visibly and noticeably stuffed–heavy and bulging. This was the point when, at a family dinner, he’d just retire to his room and take a nap. But…but he couldn’t stop now! He hadn’t even tried dessert! 

Feeling awkward, nervous, and exposed, Sans hauled himself up to his feet and carefully half-waddled over to the dessert bar. But, as he looked around the room, he noticed a couple of other humans in a similar, over-indulged state, and grinned, some of his shame ebbing away. If everyone saw him being a total glutton in public, oh well. He was having such a great time. 

Oh, there were so many incredible desserts lined up, he doubted he’d even have room for everything. But finally, Sans returned to the table with a good majority, gingerly balanced on a pair of small plates and a cup. 

Oh, wow, he felt as if he was _melting_. All this sweet, chocolatey, goopy, crumbly goodness… First, so it wouldn’t melt, he slurped up the cup of swirly soft-serve ice cream. It was somehow different from Nice Cream–a smoother, creamier consistency. Then, a cupcake with gooey, fudge filling and sugary frosting. Oh, it was delicious. Sans hiccuped and licked his sticky fingers. His tight, achy tummy was telling him to stop, but he just _couldn’t_. Not when it was all so very scrumptious. 

Next, a dense brownie with peanut butter and nuts. Then, a cookie with little multicolored chips. A little square of chocolate with raspberry in the middle… 

By now, Sans was naturally slowing down, swallowing becoming more difficult, as his stomach was just far too full. But he just leaned back in the booth, bringing the last piece close–a slice of rich, strawberry frosted cake–and slowly, lethargically forked soft, sweet little bites of it into him. 

So heavy…. Sans reached around with one hand and massaged the side of his taut, rounded tummy with his fingertips, coaxing out another little hiccup. Just a tiny, tiny bit more space… And filling it in with this decadent cake. It was a push, a struggle…it was starting to really hurt… But he loved, loved, loved this feeling… 

Finally, finally, the very last bite went down…and Sans gluttonously licked the last stray dollop of frosting from his fork. “ _Oooo_ …” He softly moaned, clanking his plate and fork down on the table, hands immediately cupping around his belly. It hurt a bit, he couldn’t deny it…but at the same time, it was wonderful. So…solid and soothingly taut. Full to the absolute fullest. He was drowsy, sated, and comfortable, despite the little achy twinges. 

Snuggling his shoulders into the back cushion, he closed his eyes and happily patted the expanded roundness of his very warm, very full tummy. It gave a soft gurgling noise as it worked to digest his massive meal. His cheeks flushed with the same warmth, all on their own. Such a great feeling…One of the absolute best. 

Without a care in the world, Sans laid his head back, feeling the soft caress of his own hair at his forehead. And he started to drift off. If he fell asleep, oh well. Papyrus or Toriel would eventually find him. The last thing he wanted to do right now was move. 

But just before the lull of sleep finally overcame him, he managed to think– _This outing was an incredible success._ And then… 

_…I’ll have to do it again sometime._  


	2. Bubbles of Fun and Irritation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon request for more burps! 
> 
> After overdoing it at Grillby’s again, Sans finds himself a bit too fizzy inside. And of course…he’s going to use this to have a little fun.

**Bubbles of Fun and Irritation**

“U-Uh…oh no…" 

In the dusky darkness of the evening, a small skeleton was trudging through the snow-blanketed street of Snowdin Town, kicking up small piles of white dust with his fuzzy slippers. His blue jacket sleeves were curled around his globular middle, his entire body hunched over, cradling the distended aqua-glowing belly peeking out the bottom of his white shirt. 

Sans had really overdone it at Grillby’s just now. They’d been giving huge discounts on a few new menu items, and he’d taken in entirely too many greasy chips and too much bubbly cherry cola. His magically-constructed tummy was a little bit puffed out, bloated, gurgly, and upset. He stepped as lightly as he could, pressing bony fingers into one side. The inside felt unsettled, churning and sloshing. Far too much of that soda…he really should’ve stopped after the fourth glass. 

As he trudged forth, his wooden cabin home coming into view, he pressed and massaged over one little air bubble trapped below the skin-like membrane, tight and painful. And then… 

” _Urrap_!“ It finally came up, and he felt a slight relief, grinning at the goofy noise. 

It wasn’t over yet. He could feel more and more pockets of air bubbling through his energy tank, waiting for their chance. 

He forced himself to straighten a little more, holding the little round ball of his tummy in his hands…and he squeezed it again. 

” _U-urp_ , _urp_ …heheh…“ Despite the discomfort of the unsettled fizzing bubbles inside him, he couldn’t help laughing. It was…fun. That tiny feeling of relief, however brief, whenever another one popped out. The obscene noise. It was great. And it was about to get even better. 

” _H-hurp_ , _urp_.“ A few little ones automatically came out as Sans approached the wreathed door of their cabin and opened it up. And he tucked one hand into the pocket of his hoodie, rubbing the bloated curve of his belly through the soft fabric. 

Of course. Just as he’d predicted, Papyrus was in the kitchen, cooking an oddly frothy pot of spaghetti. If he wasn’t out patrolling or away training or watching Mettaton, he was certainly cooking. Perfect. What a perfect opportunity. 

Sans’s eye-sockets crinkled in narrower, indicating a grin. "I’m back! Hey, bro- _orrrrrp_!" 

"WHAT?!” Of course, that got his attention. The skinny skeleton poked his head through the doorway like an irritated bird. “SANS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW? DON’T MAKE SUCH A–" 

"Ah, it’s nuthin’.” Sans padded further towards him, practically glowing with internal chuckles. Strategically massaging in and pushing the little air pockets together, squeezing them through his fullness and working it up…up… 

“Just had a fun time at Grill– _BURP_ –y’s." 

"OH MY GOD!” Papyrus screeched, stomping and cringing his narrow sockets. “EXCUSE YOURSELF!!" 

"There’s no– _brup_ –no excuse for me, bro.” He shook a little, stretched, and roughly patted at the front curve of his tummy, causing it to bounce and slosh just a bit. “ _Hlp_! ‘Sjust how I am…" 

"YOU COULD AT LEAST _TRY_ TO ACT WITH A LITTLE MORE DECORUM!” Papyrus gave him a slanted glare, rattling his bones with frustration. “WHAT EVEN _HAPPENED_ TO YOU THIS TIME?!" 

With a slight, awkward waddle in his bony legs, Sans made his way over to the sofa and heavily plopped down into it with another hiccup-burp. "Lotta snacks. Lotta fizzy-fizz. _Hrp_! That’s what happened to me. _Aaaaarp_!!" 

"OH MY GOD! YOU’RE SO DISGUSTING!!” Papyrus yanked his cape up over his nasal cavity, as if shielding himself from a perceived stench. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NOT STAND TO HAVE SUCH A CARELESS SLOB FOR A BROTHER." 

"Ah, chill out…” Sans knew he was really pushing his buttons now…but it was just too amusing, watching him spiraling into hysterics over something so simple. 

Folding one leg-bone up to rest on the opposite knee, he settled back into the couch. It gave him a little more space, reclined back like this. And he had to really push it up now. 

“Just relax, calm down… Nuthin’ to be all bothered about. Here, I’ll sing ya a song– _Ur_ -A, _bp_ -B, _crp_ -C, _durp_ -D…" 

"AAAAAAAARGH!” Papyrus covered his skull even more–stretching the cloth over where his ears would be. “STOP THAT! HOW CAN YOU _DO_ THAT?!" 

"I’m musically inclined, you know…” He couldn’t help it–it all just came to him naturally. With satisfaction, Sans cupped his overfull stomach, squishing the firm, bloated mass one last time. “I gotta practice my instrument–you know, the _hurp_!" 

The combined power of pun and belch was finally just too much for the younger skeleton to handle. "TH-THAT’S IT! I’M GOING TO UNDYNE’S!" 

With the finality of someone who was completely fed up, he stomped over to the stove, where the spaghetti pot was already frothing over, a couple of noodles splatting onto the ground. He flicked it off, clanging a lid over the pot, causing it to splash out even more. But he didn’t even care. He just rushed to the door, grabbing a single bone to take with him. "YOU BETTER HAVE THAT OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM BY THE TIME I GET BACK!" 

Sans flopped down onto his back, looking at his brother upside-down and still clutching his stomach. "No– _brmp_ –no problem.” 

"AAARGH, GOOD-BYE!" 

Papyrus slammed the door behind him, and Sans couldn’t help chuckling out loud, though his laughter was punctuated with a few more hiccups. Ah, he’d forgive him after he took out his frustrations training with the captain of the Royal Guard. And hopefully, the bubbly bloat really would be gone in another hour or so. 

Sans scrunched his legs up on the couch, making himself as comfortable as possible. Ah…what an enjoyable day. 

He lifted his skull, looking down to his round little belly and giving it a fond rub. Even though he wasn’t forcing it anymore, he could still feel it churning a bit. Surely, it was calmer than it had been earlier, but it was still going to take a while longer to completely settle. That was fine. 

"Mmmm, _hic_! Hmmmm…” Now, it was his favorite part–time to just laze about and let everything take care of itself. As he usually did. It felt so good to him…he couldn’t deny it. It felt kind of…safe. The tiny bubbles inside of him…bubbles of happiness and irritation and silliness. Breaking up the tense, silent nothingness. 

“Eheh. I’m just a bubble of fun, aren’t I? _Hic_!” Sans mumbled to himself…or to his magical belly, since it sometimes felt like a separate entity anyway. 

And at last, he settled into peaceful silence…for a long, continued night of soothing fullness and satisfaction.  


	3. Amassing Mass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon request for weight gain with human Sans! It’s been a while, and Sans is pretty used to his human body. That is, until one day, when he finds that his clothes have mysteriously shrunk…

**Amassing Mass**

It began one morning… Just one regular, lazy morning… When he finally noticed that something had _changed_. 

Sans rolled heavily off his mattress, as usual, plopping onto the floor. It took a few minutes for him to haul his body upright. This new human body of his was delightfully soft and comfortable…but it sure felt a lot heavier at times. It made sense, since he was all full of organs and muscles and fat now. Even so… 

“Mmmn…” He drowsily stretched up onto his feet, squishing one round, plush cheek and slightly ruffling a tuft of black hair. Though the novelty of it had worn off by now, he still enjoyed poking at his skin and his hair, just because it felt nice and soft. 

_Hm. I wonder what time it is now._ His waking times had really varied lately–sometimes he woke up at 9AM, other times he didn’t even get out of bed until 2PM. Of course, Papyrus would chastise him for sleeping in so late when it happened, but it just sort of happened whenever it happened, no matter what time he actually fell asleep. There wasn’t a clock in his room, so he wouldn’t find out until he shuffled himself out to the living room. 

“Nnnn…” _I don’t wanna…_ But he knew he would anyway, just so he wouldn’t worry the others. 

Sans rubbed the crusty sleepers from his eyes–another new aspect of humanity he was getting used to–and dragged his still half-asleep body over to his bureau. All he needed was a new pair of shorts, really…he still wore the same singular hoodie every day, though the others insisted that he wash it more often now. Sometimes, Papyrus even got fed up and washed it for him. But when he scooped it off the floor and took a short whiff of it, it seemed to smell alright for today. 

Tiredly, he began to dress himself, pulling the shirt and hoodie on first. But then… 

_What…?_  

His shorts weren’t fitting. They met with a huge lump of resistance at his hips, the stretchy band stretched to its limit. _How…? Must’ve shrunk on me or something the last time we washed ‘em…_  

But…part of him knew that might not be true. The waistbands of most of his pants had been feeling too tight for a while now…even when he situated them below the belly, where he’d been keeping them the past week or so, especially when he wanted to eat. 

Sucking in his breath, Sans yanked up on the fabric with all his might. It inched its way up, barely fitting around his waist. But the moment he exhaled, his face cringed in excruciating pain. Quickly, he slid them off again, sighing with relief and rubbing at the stinging ring it had left around him.They just wouldn’t fit. They just didn’t fit, and he wasn’t even sure why. 

_Well, that certainly woke me up at least…_  

Curiously, Sans wrapped a blanket around himself and sneakily peeped out of his room, making sure no one else was around before slipping down the hall and into the bathroom. There was a mirror in here, and…he really wanted to get a good look at himself. Though he only knew the bare minimum of human fleshy anatomy, he’d heard of how humans store energy differently. How it…piles up as excess fatty skin in certain places. Maybe…… 

Sans felt inexplicably nervous, even though he knew he was alone, and that this was his own body. It still didn’t fully feel like his–as if it was just on loan for a while and he’d have to give it back at some point. But nevertheless, he began to examine his reflection. 

His fingers sank into the squishy parts as he poked himself, and he couldn’t help quietly chuckling. It felt so good to be so soft like this. But…maybe he was seeing things, but his belly seemed a little…wider. His bellybutton seemed a little deeper. The little bumpy rolls of flesh right before his hips were…squeezing outward a little more. 

Experimentally, he ran his hands over the relatively smooth chestnut-brown skin. Yes. Yes, that was it. Since magically and suddenly becoming a full human, Sans had spent enough time touching these plush body parts to recognize when something had really changed. He was slightly _bigger_ …his squishy softness was thicker, his behind was rounder, and even his chest felt a little puffier. A blush tickled onto his cheeks, and he saw it in the mirror, dusting red…so he forced himself to look back at his reflection and grin. 

_What do they call this? “Gaining weight”, I think. Though I’ve gained mass, not weight…but people don’t understand the technicalities._  

Well, it made sense. He _had_ been enjoying a whole lot of human food and stuffing his new, human stomach whenever he got the chance. But he had to remember, he couldn’t change his size willingly anymore. According to human biology and anatomy, he would just continue to increase in size if he kept overeating… 

_Heh. I need to try to cut down a bit._ Sans pinched his left love-handle and stretched it out, letting it wobble a little, strangely loving the jiggly sensation.

_Though, I really don’t mind how it is now. Only problem is, I need bigger pants._ He softly laughed to himself and patted at his own pudgy, puffy, round belly, once again enjoying the sight and feel of it bouncing under his hand. 

For a few moments, he massaged around his torso, plying the soft, buttery flesh between his fingers, holding his arms out and feeling how big he’d become. Not all that much bigger than before…but _bigger_. And bigger than his skeleton form, for sure. Little pats and squeezes and slaps at the wiggly softness that was now a permanent part of him. Sans didn’t notice at first, but he was naturally smiling. It felt so nice…even if the others might find this shameful. He could practically hear his brother criticizing him for it already. 

_Maybe I’ll try to eat a little less than I have been_ , he rationalized. _But I’m definitely not putting effort into losing this weight._ _I don’t really_ wanna _lose this weight, heh…_  

At last, Sans picked up his cover-up blanket again, preparing to slide back over to his room now that that was settled. And it hit him. _But what the hell am I going to wear today?!_ Sure, he could probably go out and buy himself some new pants…but he had to _wear_ pants to go out in. _Oh, great…_  

* * *

Five minutes and a lot of awkward embarrassment later, Sans was standing in the middle of his room, holding a pair of very, very large blue dress pants and trying to decide how to go about getting himself in them. _God, I can’t believe this…_  

He’d snuck out and asked Asgore to lend him a pair of pants for the day. Of course, they were _way_ too long, but they at least looked like they would fit around the waist, maybe even with a bit of wiggle room. 

It took a lot of rolling and tugging up the ends for his feet to pop out, and he had to even tie a cord around his waist, because it was just a tiny bit too big…but eventually, he got them situated in relative comfort. Grumbling to himself, he realized he would actually have to put his sneakers on today if he wanted to go out clothes shopping. Humans unfortunately didn’t take kindly to one of their own walking around in slippers in public. 

It was around noon, he discovered, when he stepped out into the kitchen…not bad. He’d made it just in time, and everyone was gathering for lunch. 

As much as he tried to hide it or cover it up, he eventually had to explain why he was wearing Asgore’s pants. Undyne laughed at him and Papyrus scolded him, just as predicted, but at least it didn’t become a topic they dwelt on, which he was grateful for. After lunch, Toriel even asked him if he’d like a slice of pie. 

“Er, well, it’s pretty obvious I gotta cut down on the sweets,” Sans replied, still blushing like mad. “Don’t wanna get _too_ sweet, ya know?" 

"Oh, nonsense,” was her reply, as she was already dishing out a generous slice for him. “There’s no reason to worry about your weight. Don’t weight on it! Heehee!" 

And suddenly, he was all the more comfortable. Sans loved his body this way, though he wouldn’t admit it. It wouldn’t stop him from enjoying the feeling of his soft, thick skin enveloping him in warmth and comfort. 

And it definitely didn’t stop him from getting himself another slice of pie.


	4. The Competitive Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon request–Sans entering a burger-eating competition. I put a little bit of my own spin on it.
> 
> There’s some skelebros and Frisk near the end, but it’s only friendshippy.

**The Competitive Spirits**

Today was the day. That all-important day, the day he’d been waiting and preparing for. 

Sans’s heel-bones were practically knocking together with excitement and nervousness. _Am I really going through with this?_ he wondered. But a split-second later– _Of course I am._ There was no way he’d miss this…and everyone had been telling him how he’d be a shoe-in all week. He was ready. He was going to do this. 

Shaking a little slush from the bottoms of his slippers, he paused before the entrance to his favorite burger pub. A huge banner was attached to the outside window, obscuring the “open” sign, which had instead been moved above the door. “Grillby’s Official Burger-Eating Competition!” It read, “Chow your way to victory and win amazing prizes! First place winner gets meals on us for three whole months!" 

Three whole months to actually not rack up his tab? Sounded amazing. And all he had to do was eat. Well…eat a _lot_. But he was prepared. 

Sans felt pretty awkward like this, but he had to do everything he could. He’d been practicing overeating, he’d skipped breakfast this morning…and he’d modified his own stomach spell, changing its size so he could fit as much as he could into it without sacrificing his mobility. It could stretch further, of course…but he needed a larger "starting point” than what he usually sported around town. It made him appear awkward–his round, semi-transparent bluish tummy already poking out the bottom of his now too-small white shirt. But despite how much larger he looked, he was utterly empty, and a little grumble sounded from within, reminding him of how hungry he was. Not for much longer. 

Sans chuckled. There was a certain embarrassment he felt about all this, but also a certain pride. After all, today was the only day his gluttony would be appreciated…when it would be cheered and celebrated. When he could gleefully flaunt it without being reprimanded. This would be the most glorious day ever. 

Though…something sad nipped at the edges of his heart. Wishing…he didn’t have to come here alone. 

As he stepped into the pub, warmth and activity and smells and curious patrons assaulted him. The scent of frying grease and patties was so thick, it made his belly rumble again. Sure, he’d probably grow sick of it after so long, but right now, it was incredibly tantalizing. Oh, he was so ready. 

Of course, Sans has to rehash his explanation for his increased size several times. So he just rattled it off, tossing in some jokes, giving them what they want. They were curious, of course… Curious about his odd manner of energy processing. But some of them were encouraged by this information. 

“ _Yeah_!” The horse creature exclaimed. “You had better do your best, Sans! I got 100G riding on you!" 

And now, they were betting on him, too. Wonderful. 

At last, Grillby himself appeared behind the bar, clanging against a glass bottle to get everyone’s attention. Cheers and barking piped up here and there. Four wooden platforms were set up in front of the bar stools, elevated tables for the contestants to sit at in plain view. Sans was a little surprised that only three others had signed up, but…hey, at least it meant a little less competition. Knowing some of the others, though, he doubted he could get by easily. 

"Alright!” A small duck woman hopped up onto the counter, standing beside the dapper flame-man and excitedly flapping her wings. Naturally, she was the spokesperson and announcer for today, since Grillby hardly ever spoke, especially in front of a huge crowd. “The First Annual Grillby’s Burger Competition is about to begin! Everyone, please step behind that yellow line, and would our contestants please take their places at their designated areas!" 

Sans noticed a strip of yellow tape stuck to the floor right before the platforms, presumably to keep the onlookers at a safe and non-interfering distance. Padding over to the tables, he read over their small place-cards. He’d been placed at the furthest right, closest to the fire door, strangely enough. Hamming it up, he waved and clumsily bowed to the audience before taking his seat. 

On his left, his competitors were stepping up to their tables as well… Dogaressa, the giant-teeth monster, and the red-shirted bear that often hung around outside. He’d anticipated a few of them, but it was a bit of a surprise to see Dogaressa in place of her husband. Maybe she really could out-eat him. She motioned as if catching a kiss from the wildly woofing Dogamy, and settled onto her stool. 

By now, Grillby was coming out with the food, placing each plate on the counter in preparation. 

"Nooooooow…” The duck lady cried over the excited din, holding up a small hand bell with one wing. “When I ring this bell, our contestants will have up to two hours to finish as many Grillby’s Grillburgers as they possibly can! Contestants, if at any point you feel you need to quit, simply knock your plate off the table, signaling your forfeit." 

The silent flame-man was bustling about as she spoke, distributing the contestants’ plates–each piled up with ten steaming burgers. Sans felt his hungry stomach quietly rumbling again, and he internally jittered with anticipation as his plate was plopped down in front of him. And although he doubted anyone else could see it, he could tell from his movements that Grillby was actually rather excited as well. His hands flickered, his head burned a little hotter. So, Sans gave him a big, grateful grin before he bustled off back behind the counter. Thrilled claps and cheers came up from the audience again. 

"Alright, on my signal!” The duck stretched her wing up high. “……. _Go_!" 

She shook her bell, dinging it wildly, and Sans’s hand immediately shot out, stuffing the first burger into his mouth. God, that was so good after being hungry all day. He practically inhaled the first three burgers, hiccuping from the sudden heavy influx. _It’s not about speed_ , he had to remind himself. Speed certainly would help, of course, but in the end, it was all about capacity and volume. Two hours was more than enough time. Eating too fast would just make his stomach more upset…he had to establish a steady, moderate pace. 

Though Sans’s finger-bones tingled with the urge to cram the next burger down his invisible gullet, he forced himself to take swift, measured bites, pushing it into him bit by bit. The feeling of the hungry little soreness inside him being filled in and soothed away was just amazing. He rocked back on his stool, making himself comfortable and settling in, giving a quick wink to the audience as he snatched up the next burger. It was hard to relax and pretend he was just having a regular meal with so many people watching him…but he had to, he had to try. 

In the middle of his sixth burger, he decided to glance over and see how everyone else was doing. To his alarm, the teeth-monster had already finished his plate, and Grillby was bringing him a second one, loaded with another ten burgers. That thing’s mouth was so wide, he could devour the meaty treats three at a time. Meanwhile, Dogaressa and the bear were keeping relative pace with him…though the bear seemed to be lagging behind by one. 

Feeling threatened, Sans reflexively gulped in his next big mouthful faster than ever. "Mmmf.” It stung a little sliding down his bony, magic throat. _It’s_ not _about speed!_ He had to remind himself a second time. _I mean, that thing can eat really fast, but…where even is his stomach? Where is it even going? …That doesn’t look good._  

With another, smaller swallow, he finished off the sixth burger and grabbed the next. They really were very good–warm and tender and just the right amount of juice and grease. Sans closed his eyes and focused, feeling nothing but the chewy, soft food filling his mouth and swirling down inside of his magic stomach. Seven…eight…nine…and then ten. 

“ _Ehp_!” They were gone already. 

“…Yo, Grillbz!” Sans confidently grinned for the audience and waved over to Grillby. “Gonna need another serving over here! I’m just gettin’ warmed up!" 

That wasn’t _exactly_ true…but no one needed to know that. His increased stomach felt pleasantly full…this would have been a regular, satisfying meal under normal circumstances…at least he wasn’t _completely_ full yet. It looked just the same as when it was empty, though to him, it felt a little bit heavier. 

The crowd of onlookers cheered for him, some calling his name and encouragements. 

"Yyyyyup! I can totally _stomach_ this! No problem!” Sans gave another charismatic wink as Grillby slid his second plate of ten burgers onto his table. Gleefully, he plopped back onto his stool and took a big bite out of the eleventh burger. The audience cheered and laughed once more. And then, suddenly… 

_Clatter, ding!_  

Whipping his skull around, Sans noticed just as it happened. The bear had just shoved his plate off, letting the final half-eaten burger on it bounce off the floor. He groaned and pressed a paw to his snout, looking sick. Well, it made a bit of sense–he didn’t eat here as often as the other two, so he probably wasn’t used to such a high volume of greasy food. 

“Aaaaaand, the first contestant is out!” The duck lady announced, hefting herself onto the counter again. “Who will be the next to go?" 

_Certainly not that guy_ , Sans thought, glancing at the teeth monster. He’d slowed down significantly, but he was still almost all the way through his second plate. Almost twenty burgers down already. 

Dogaressa yipped, receiving her second plate just as Sans was starting his thirteenth ‘burg. She was doing alright, but…underneath her robe, her belly was starting to bulge. 

” _Hic_! Mmmf!“ Sans pushed bite after bite through his narrowly opening teeth, munching up and falling into a comfortable rhythm. Each burger’s energy gathered inside him, gradually feeling heavier…and beginning to feel a little tight. Sans’s round, blue belly was dark and dense on the inside, where it had previously been transparent. Full. Quite full. 

With a free hand, he rubbed skeletal digits over the bulgy right side. _Yeah, that’ll help…_ The warmth of his caressing motion eased away the dull aches that were starting to blossom inside him. Even his larger-capacity stomach had limits, and as he swallowed his sixteenth burger, he felt that it was beginning to swell and stretch outwards now. A little bit rounder, pushing out further towards the table, his sides a tiny bit more curved. Good, very good progress. Now, things would start to get fun. 

Burger number seventeen passed his teeth, joining the gathering mass in his artificial gut. And a sudden crashing and clattering announced the next dropout. 

Whining and whimpering, Dogaressa had pushed her snout across the table, knocking out her plate, with only two burgers left. She’d actually been ahead of Sans, but…had eaten too quickly, perhaps. Her paws clutched tightly at her pained stomach, her expression completely agonized. 

"And just like that, we’re down to the final two!” The duck lady made the announcement, trying to force the enthusiasm into her voice. Clearly, she was getting very tired and sick of this by now. After all, almost a half hour had elapsed. 

A bead of sweat formed at the back of Sans’s skull, but he tried not to watch too closely as Dogamy came forth and helped his wife down, nuzzling and comforting her. At least she would get the third-place prize of a couple of coupons. Now…it was just between him and the teeth-monster. 

Said teeth-monster had just chomped into the final burger on his second plate. He turned towards Sans, and they looked at each other. Though he had no face…he thought he noticed him smiling wider. He grinned in response. This was going to be a real challenge. 

The round, bloated little skeleton hunkered down over his table, carefully balancing on the stool, and steadily pumped himself with more fluffy buns and chewy meat. A few of these last ones had ketchup smeared over the top, which he was extremely grateful for…he had a feeling Grillby had done that on purpose, just for him, and he couldn’t help humming with joy. Laaaaaast one… 

“ _Hmp_!” Sans choked on a burp as the final chunk of burger on his plate converted to gelatinous energy and popped down inside him. Reflexively, his hands cupped over his bulging belly, now almost the size of a beach ball and pushing his shirt up even further. Soooo full…too full. He paused to massage over the tight, glowing blue membrane. Plying over the surface, it was firm and a little sloshy. Pressing in, it was like a dense ball of packed gel. Twenty down…a new limit, honestly. But he was far from done. 

The teeth-monster was only on his second burger of the new stack. He looked over, as if wondering, hoping that Sans was finished. At his normal size, this would have been painful…but as of now, it was only a little ache. An ache that pushed him forward. 

“Grillbz!” He called, waving with one arm while still rubbing his belly and sliding his fingers underneath his shirt. “Time for my next one! I gotta _ketchup_ here!”  

The audience cheered, their interest rekindled. “Yeeeeeeah, Sans!” The horse-man cried…he had 100G at stake, after all. 

Grillby came with the third platter of ten, his flaming hands trembling a little. Sans patted at his overfull ball of a belly, proudly and appreciatively, looking over the fresh stack of burgers. 

“Oooohhhh, Sansyyyyy,” the constantly-inebriated rabbit drawled, stretching herself as close to the limit line as she could. “You’re sooooooo greedy. It’s kinda hot…" 

"Heheh…” He chuckled and awkwardly blushed a tiny bit. Everyone was watching him totally glutting himself… Well, he was going to have to overstuff himself to the limit. 

His hand slightly trembling, Sans squished another burger into his palm and brought it back to his mouth, tipping his head back and stuffing a big bite inside. Munching, munching, munching… Another converted, squeezing inside. Another pushed in, puffing out the magic skin another smidgeon. Sans panted, feeling the stuffed, overindulged tightness now. He couldn’t give up. One more… Somehow, before he even noticed it, another had disappeared. 

“Ooh…uff… _mmph_. _Hlp_!” God, he was so, so full. 

Taking a very brief break, Sans looked over, noticing that the teeth-monster was still ahead of him. But…he didn’t look too well either. His giant head was drooping, his chewing painfully slow. Now was his chance…but…  

“Ohhhhh…” Sans moaned, clenching his eye-sockets closed and carefully rubbing around the balloon of his poor, tortured tummy. It was starting to hurt now…pained and pulled taut with the energy of twenty-five burgers jammed inside of it. 

“Uhhhh…” Desperately, Sans reached forward, grasping another burger. The crest of his bulbous tummy tapped against the table, applying an unexpected pressure that made him wince. “Rrrf…uff…" 

Suddenly, he wasn’t even sure if he could do this. It hurt…it was just…too much. And…what did it even matter? He’d save some money, but… God, it hurt… He’d disappoint some of these people, but… 

Sans forced himself to take one more labored bite. A couple of sweat drops slid down his skull, his round cheeks hotly flushing blue. _I wish…he’d been here… At least…even if…_  

No. There was absolutely no way Papyrus would come here for this…he’d known it. He wanted nothing to do with this place…and especially not to see his brother do something so disgusting and shameful. He’d never support him in something like this. If he was going to finish this, he would finish this for himself. 

” _Mmm_!“ Sans pressed another bite in…and swallowing it took all of his focused power. His globular body began to dangerously sway. _Th-that’s it…_ He thought, tinged with regret and disappointment. _I’m going to have to…_  

"SAAAAAAAAANS!!!” All of a sudden, a very familiar, booming voice cut through the crowd. 

Shocked, Sans jerked his head up, blinking and focusing on the figures that had suddenly appeared in the doorway. Despite his lack of air, he gasped, pressing a hand over his front to steady himself. 

There, against all odds, was Papyrus, carrying the small human on his shoulders, barely fitting past the doorway. And they were cheering, excitedly, waving… Frisk’s little hands were spread wide, holding up a huge banner, which read “You can do it, Sans!” in glittery blue letters. 

“SORRY WE’RE SO LATE!” Papyrus looked into Sans’s widened eyes, yelling above the chatter of the confused crowd. “THE HUMAN INSISTED ON FINISHING THIS SIGN FOR YOU! BUT THAT STUPID DOG MADE OFF WITH MOST OF OUR CRAFTING SUPPLIES AND…" 

"Y-You guys…” Sans shivered, feeling happy tears poking at his sockets. He’d never, ever thought… 

“NYAHHH, THIS IS NO TIME FOR THAT! GO GET THEM, SANS!!” Papyrus cut eye contact with him, punching the air with energetic enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, go Sans!!” Frisk echoed, their small voice surprisingly loud as they waved their sign up high. 

“Mmm…” It hurt…it still really hurt, but Sans felt a rush of new motivation. A sudden resolution to keep on going. Not just for himself. 

It was hard, but he squeezed the final bite of burger number twenty-six down into his mouth…pressing, pressing into his belly. So darn tight… Desperately, he massaged the bulgy side, forcing out a hiccup, which made him feel a tiny bit better. 

The buzzing of the crowd reverberated around him…but he could only hear his brother’s cheerful cries of encouragement and envision Frisk’s smiling, beaming face. 

Another glance to the side revealed the teeth-monster really struggling as well. He was halfway through another burger, two left on his plate…but he was jittering, clenching his massive, sharp teeth…he looked like he was in pain. 

Sans concentrated with all his might, blocking everything else out. He slowly lowered another burger to his teeth. Bite…oof…bite… At last, he managed to choke down the last of that burger, and… 

_Clang_! 

A hushed silence fell as the teeth-monster’s plate hit the floor, his last two burgers splatting against the wood. His huge head slammed down onto the table, utterly spent, on the edge of passing out. Twenty-eight. If Sans could somehow stomach just slightly more, he’d have it. 

“ _Saaaaaans_!” Everyone called out, some beginning to chant. “Sans, Sans, Sans, Sans!”

And so, using every last ounce of his remaining strength and determination…slowly, gradually, with bread crumbs and ketchup smears sticking to his cheeks…he consumed one more. 

“ _Hrrrg_!” Sans pressed his elbows to the table, lowering his head, letting his hugely bloated tummy freely hang down beneath him, emitting gurgles and churning in displeasure. 

His face landed right next to one of the remaining two burgers. And so, instinctively, he bit it from the edge. And stuffed it down his throat. 

With that final bite, it was all over.

_Dingdingdingdingdingading_!! “Looks like we have our winner!!” The duck lady rang her bell again, signaling the contest’s close. She sat herself on the bar counter, happily swinging her feet. “Congratulations, Sans!" 

"Nmm,” he could only mumble in reply. 

Everyone cheered and whooped, especially Papyrus, whose voice could probably be heard for miles. “ _Yeah_! Fork it over!” The horse man yelled, pointing accusingly at another rabbit man in the corner. The dogs exploded into barking. It was pure chaos. 

At some point, the teeth-monster slid himself out of his seat and dragged himself slowly and carefully to an empty booth, where he could rest comfortably. 

Yet…Sans found that he could barely move. He attempted to lift himself up from his position…but he only grunted, pain shooting through him, and flopped back to the table. He could feel his overblown belly faintly stinging in spots. God, this might be his absolute limit at this size. 

A moment later, something hot on the top of his skull caught his attention. Grillby had come to take his mostly-empty plate…and he was rubbing his head a little, as if trying to comfort him. 

Sans couldn’t help giving him a sickly smile in return. 

“…Congrats." 

Hearing that from the silent bartender…made it worth it all the more. But before he could muster up a response, a booming voice interrupted. 

"CITIZENS, MAKE WAY! BROTHER OF THE CHAMPION AND HIS BEST FRIEND COMING THROUGH!" 

The patrons stared at Papyrus as he went by, a few of the dogs trying to nip at his leg bones. Grillby stepped aside as the tall skeleton and the little human approached. 

"SANS, YOU WERE INCREDIBLE! WE NEVER DOUBTED YOU’D BE THE WINNER!" 

Frisk had lowered their banner now, draping it over Papyrus’s back like an additional cape, and they emphatically nodded, smiling warmly and widely. Carefully, he plucked them from his shoulders, letting them down so they could come to Sans’s side as well. 

"Yyyyup.” Sans shakily looked up, giving them a forced grin. “Just had to…belly up. Huh…urrrrf…" 

Papyrus exchanged a few words with the duck lady, who came paddling over to give him the details on Sans’s winnings. Apparently, he’d also get a small plaque to be displayed on the back wall, which Papyrus was pretty excited about, viewing it as an actual accomplishment. 

"ALRIGHT, LAZYBONES. WE NEED TO GET YOU BACK HOME TO REST." 

"Mm… _ehp_ …” Sans barely spoke, focusing on steadying himself and minimizing the pain, as his brother gingerly curled long arms around him, sliding him from his seat. He lifted his arms for Papyrus to grasp him, pulling him up and tucking him into his arms, somewhat bridal style. Even with several pounds’ worth of burger energy attached to him, he was apparently still light enough to carry. 

More cheering and calls of farewell and congratulations bloomed all around him as they made their way to the exit…but Sans only closed his eye-sockets, feeling extremely heavy and achy, but secure and immensely satisfied. 

Papyrus gently poked the side of Sans’s immense, darkly swirling blue belly, which was poking up so far, it almost bumped into his long jawbone. “GREAT GOBS, SANS, YOU’RE ENORMOUS. IT’S DISGUSTING." 

"Eheheh…” Sans quietly chuckled, cupping his arms around the underside and settling back against his brother’s shoulder. “I was…s-surprised that you even came… _Hlp_! I know how much you…hate that place… And don’t…like it when I, uh…d-do this, heh. Not your thing…at all. Ooof…" 

"TRUE.” Papyrus put on a puffed-up, noble expression, tenderly, briefly massaging the curve of the bulged magic belly. “VERY TRUE. BUT IF MY BROTHER IS TRYING HIS BEST AT SOMETHING AND PUTTING ALL HIS EFFORTS INTO IT, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT IS. I SHALL BE THERE TO SUPPORT HIM!" 

"A-Aw, thanks.” Sans took over rubbing and soothing the achiness of his ballooned belly. “You’re the coolest, bro." 

"NYAH, YOU WERE THE COOL ONE TODAY!" 

A particularly painful bubble churned through, and Sans winced, rubbing in warm circles. 

Frisk looked up with a worried expression, reaching out as if wanting to help somehow. 

"Ah…” Noticing, Sans tilted his skull towards them, smiling through half-closed eye-sockets. “It’s okay, kid. I’ll feel better after a bit.” It hurt, but he reached out, patting the top of their head. “And you did a– _hic_!–a great job with that banner. Never knew you were so crafty, eheh. Your effort really was un _flag_ ging, heh…omph…" 

Though they still looked a little concerned, they managed a friendly smile. 

"WE NEED TO GET YOU HOME AND IN BED BEFORE YOU POP YOURSELF,” Papyrus announced. “HUMAN, DO NOT FRET–SANS WILL BE BACK TO HIS SMALLER AND LAZIER FORM SOON ENOUGH." 

They exchanged light-hearted banter for a few more minutes, and Frisk finally set off again, while Papyrus began to carefully walk in the direction of their cabin. 

But even as Sans continued to soothe and attend to his tummyache, he couldn’t help feeling…joy. This was the happiest he’d felt in weeks. He’d won himself a whole lot of free food for quite a while…and even better, his friends were proud of him, supportive of him. Despite the pain, he started to fall asleep even before reaching their house. 

_What an amazing day…_ Hugging his round ball belly of nearly thirty burgers like a prize trophy, Sans gave himself over to the warm affection and care. Winning was all the more sweet and wonderful…when he could share it with friends. 

And silently, he thanked them again, just before the dark comfort overcame him.


	5. Change is Goodbad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comic Papyrus weight gain, requested by mirrored-with-puns
> 
> Comic is a very confused young man who’s getting a little pudgy…and he just can’t decide how he feels about it. It’s almost like he’s two very different people…
> 
> I’m not terribly familiar with the “character”, so it was a bit challenging. It's pretty much my own interpretation of what a Sans/Papyrus fusion would be like.

**Change is Goodbad**

Too fast… Everything happened much, much too quickly. 

In the blink of an eye, I was a skeleton monster living in a snowy region underground. And in the next blink, I was a tall young human man with wavy auburn hair and a few freckles. 

A milisecond later, I was settling into a life in the human world with various other creatures who were my “friends”, though I couldn’t recall ever meeting them. And during that certain point of time, I noticed another change. My clothing was changing, too. 

For as long as I could remember, even during skeleton-hood. I’d always worn the same jacket, cape, exercise pants, gloves, and boots. But that morning, as I was preparing for another exciting day and slipping on my familiar clothing, I couldn’t help acknowledging how uncomfortable it felt. I could barely even squeeze the elastic waistband over my hips, and even when I did, it pinched into me, producing a stinging pain. 

There was an inexplicable feeling of dread within me, and I immediately knew what the problem was, though I didn’t want to admit it. I just couldn’t face it, couldn’t allow myself to accept it. Stubbornly, I stuffed my arms into my jacket, noting that I could at least still zipper it up with ease. That had to be okay, right? It was still okay? 

Some inner, forbidden piece of me shivered with an odd thrill. And I hated that piece of me. I tried to suppress it, crush it, quell it before it ever got a chance to surface. Because God, what would happen to me if I let it go unchecked? No. God, no. How had this even happened?! 

All day, no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I felt it in every step, every shift and tug at my too-small pants. Consumed by self-loathing, guilt, curiosity and fascination. 

I’d gained weight. No getting around it. No need to deny it any longer. Somehow, I’d packed on a bit of extra fat. 

None of my friends seemed to have noticed, though I wondered if they were just being polite. Though Toriel seemed even more cheerful than usual, greeting me with an enthusiastic cry of “Comic!”–my nickname, short for Comic Papyrus. Though, I still had no idea where I’d even gotten that name. Perhaps she liked the chubby look. 

It wasn’t until the end of the day when I finally allowed myself to really look at it again. Creeping up to the mirror on the back of my door, I lifted my jacket and poked at the puffy layer of soft flesh pooching over my waistband. Discomfort twisted inside my chest, followed by amusement, and I found myself quietly chuckling. 

“Looks like I need to go on a diet,” I spoke to myself, hoping the sounds of the words aloud would make it more real, more definite. A diet would be a lot of work…work I didn’t particularly care to do, but… If I wanted a body I could feel good about… 

Resignedly, I squished at my slightly rounder cheeks. Everything was just so crazy–a whirlwind of morphing forms, and I couldn’t even properly tell what I wanted it to be like anymore. What _did_ I want? I only knew when I wanted to run, when I wanted to sleep, when I wanted to cook, when I wanted to eat… 

That was probably it. I couldn’t help it–I just loved junk food. Though I liked to exercise sometimes, I also liked chowing down on some of the most greasy and “fattening” foods. Apparently, they were starting to catch up on me. But…I couldn’t just give that up! It was…it was something I really, really enjoyed. 

Feeling dejected, I simply plopped down onto my unmade bed. There were so many thing I just didn’t understand… 

As I turned over and snuggled my head into my pillow, my hands subconsciously began to play at my waist, at my torso. My fingers plied my flesh…still an odd sensation to me. It was just so soft and kind of comforting. I shouldn’t feel that way. Yet I did. I hated that I did. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. Small, but growing love handles bulged above my hips…my belly was plush and padded. Maybe having more cushioning would protect me somehow? No, it didn’t work like that, did it? 

I’d always been a little bit stocky, but healthy. That was a muscular weight. But my muscles were gradually fading, replaced by smooth, wobbly flesh. I wanted it gone. I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to keep it. I liked having it. 

“Nngh!” The pain of my own inner conflict cut into me, and my hand reflexively squeezed, fingernails digging sharply into my softness. The softness of self-indulgence and security and joy. The softness of selfishness and greed and carelessness. I hated it. I loved it. This had happened, and I was at war against myself. All I could feel was my own massive confusion. 

_No. Yes. Diet. Don’t diet. You’ll feel better. You already feel fine. You look weird. You look great. How could you have let this happen? Eh, whatever, it’s nothing–it’s not a big deal. Discomfort. Comfort. Noyesnoyesnoyesno…!!_  

It hurt so much. It hurt so, so much. I dug further into my body, curling, tucking myself into a ball, wincing in agony. It hurt so much, it felt like I might somehow tear apart. I would split right in two and just…cease to exist. I couldn’t decide, I just couldn’t. I didn’t know what to do, and it was literally killing me. 

Why? Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t my life have just continued on like normal? Why did my life _never_ continue like normal? Why was I always the center of such violent changes, all the time, all the time…?! I didn’t want to change anymore. I just wanted to stay the same. 

And in that moment, it finally broke. Warmth emanated from somewhere within me…a loving, gentle warmth. A caring warmth that told me…to love myself. Love that these feeling were a part of me, realize they were okay… 

_If you want to stay as you are…then stay as you are._ The thought seemed to come from somewhere just outside of me, on the edges of my consciousness. Acceptance. 

“Uh…” My desperate, tight squeezing eased up, and I slowly released my midsection, leaving behind a few injured red marks. There might even be a few bruises tomorrow. But then, an immeasurable feeling of relief settled over me. It was alright… I would stay…as I was. Eating junk food, going for runs, helping people, and sometimes just laying in my room and doing nothing. That was okay. No matter what happened to my body, I was still me. Whatever “me” was. 

Apologetically, I rubbed at my puffy little belly, easing its stinging. It was okay to be upset about it, and it was okay to not mind it at the same time…I didn’t have to choose. I didn’t have to pick a side. It was okay to just…be. 

My eyes closed and I zippered my jacket again. With a deep breath, I let myself heavily rest into the mattress. Maybe I would never really know why all of this had happened, or why it was still happening. But it was my life now. I would continue to enjoy it. With all of its love and all of its hatred…literally through thick and thin. Uncomfortcomfort. That’s what I felt. And I would love my own uncomfortcomfort too. 

And at last, I fell asleep, one hand still resting on my new, plump little stomach.


	6. Entangled in Deliciousness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muffet stuffing Sans, requested by skeletonshitposts
> 
> Sans takes up a job as a taste tester for Muffet, hoping to make some fast, easy cash. Little does he know, she’s got a lot more in mind…

**Entangled in Deliciousness**

Why was it so freakin’ dark on this level? It made no sense, considering how all of the other levels were bathed in the glow of lava and fire. But, if this was what he’d have to deal with…oh well. It was definitely worth it. 

Sans had just finished for the day at his hotdog stand in Hotland…and he was heading to work at a new job–for once, a job he wouldn’t skip out on. Miss Muffet, the spider girl running the bake sale a few levels up had posted an ad at the MTT Resort seeking a taste tester for some of her newer products–and Sans had immediately snatched it up. A chance to eat pastries and get paid for it?! He certainly wasn’t going to pass that up. 

That girl had always seemed a bit shady to him, though, so he couldn’t help feeling somewhat apprehensive…especially when he noticed the sticky webs coating the floor. Carefully, he sidestepped some of the clear residue before making his way past an arch of dangling spiders to the arachnid girl’s shrouded dwelling. 

Barely illuminated in a sphere of light, Muffet’s purple fanged smile curled up as Sans halted beside her. “Ahuhuhuhu…” Her giggle was amplified by the room’s emptiness. The rest of her appeared, two right arms holding a teacup and saucer, two left arms clutching a rolling pin and a little shaker of powdered sugar. “Oh, hello, dearie.” Her pigtails bobbed with her tilting head. “The hotdog salesman, is it? You’re offering to be our new taste tester?" 

"Naturally.” Sans tucked his hands into his hoodie pockets, as usual, and gave a cheery wink. “ _Fangs_ for taking me on." 

"Thank _you_.” Muffet turned, setting the teacup on an unseen table. “I am grateful to get another willing participant so soon after what happened to the last one…" 

Sans would never admit it, but a drop of sweat ran down the back of his skull then. Well, if anything got dicey, he could always teleport out of there. There was no need to be nervous. "So, er…” He glanced around in the darkness, resisting the urge to forcefully illuminate it with magic. The spiders probably preferred the dim light. “Where’s these tastes that need testin’?" 

"Oh…one second. A fresh batch is coming out of the oven right now." 

Despite the mildly threatening atmosphere, Sans couldn’t help squirming a little with anticipation when the smell of fresh, warm baking reached his senses. Even if it was made from spiders, Muffet’s work was still delicious…and even if these new products weren’t exactly right yet, he had a feeling they’d be just as tasty, too. 

With one set of arms, Muffet pulled out a baking sheet, while another arm dragged over a plush little cushioned stool. "Go on and have a seat, dearie. It’s time for you to get to work." 

Sans situated himself in a comfortable position on the cushion, and Muffet gleefully handed him the tray. A dozen little cookies were cooling on its surface, each with vanilla chips baked inside and topped with a chocolate blob in the shape of a spider. Spider Cookies, perhaps.  Oh, the scent was even more tantalizing up close. Unaffected by its scorching underside, he cradled it in his lap, snatched out the first cookie and crunched it between his teeth. 

"Hmm!” Sans tried to mask his instantaneous delight. “That’s _dough_ joke.” He swallowed “These are a real _chip_ off the old block." 

"Hmm-mm…” Muffet tutted and ticked a finger at him, though her back was turned. “You must consume the entire dish before passing your judgement." 

"Eheh. No problems here.” Sans wasted no time finishing off the test cookie…and he even snuck a second one. “Uhhhhh…” Holding the tray out to her and smiling his best, he gave the verdict. “They taste great, but they were a _little_ bit dry and hard. Maybe ya cooked ‘em an itsy-bitsy bit too long. Otherwise, top-notch!" 

Finally, Muffet snapped back around, solid black eyes winking out of sync. ”…Did I say you could stop?“ 

"Er, no…” Sans balanced the cookie sheet against his kneecaps, awkwardly scratching his skull. “I was simply–" 

"Those are only a test batch,” Muffet clarified, a hiss at the back of her throat. “Useless to me now. You are to dispose of them all. Just empty them into your stomach. That seems like the simplest solution." 

Sans froze a moment, surprised…but definitely not afraid. He chuckled again, settling back on his stool and flipping a third cookie into his mouth, swiftly chomping it down. "So I’ve been promoted from taste tester to garbage disposal, eh?" 

"Yessss, if that’s what you want to call it. Ahuhuhuhuhu… Save up some room, because the next serving is still to come…" 

” _Mmf_! No problem, my eight-legged pal.“ 

The spider hostess paid no mind to his words, focusing on her next task in the shrouded darkness. 

Meanwhile, Sans dove right in, honestly excited to have free reign over the sugary little treats. Each one barely lasted two bites as he pushed them in, in… Sure, he’d had lunch, but he’d yet to have dinner, so he was still a little bit hungry. Ah, well, guess he was having dessert first today. Crumbs clung to his smooth, round cheekbones and dropped into the tray as more and more crunched past his teeth. Once, he even grasped two at a time, barely fitting both of them into his mouth. The chunky little chocolate pieces danced through his nebulous sense of taste as they tumbled into the energy-converting base of his jaw. Then, they trickled down his spinal column, depositing into his round little energy tank, which was starting to develop a cloudy swirl of cobalt blue underneath his clothes. 

There were only a few cookies left by the time Muffet reappeared, and she made a hissing, tsking noise as she approached. "My, my. For someone so bony, you sure do have an appetite." 

With a casual shrug, he grabbed another cookie, tapping it to his teeth. "Can’t help it–I’ve got lots of empty space to fill." 

They were still delicious, but…with the spider’s reappearance, a smell so strong and heavy wafted by–doughy, puffy, warm, dripping with glaze… Sans plowed through the final cookies, overexcited for his next sampling. Of course, he’d been thrilled to take this job, munching on sweets all afternoon, but…he’d never dreamed he’d actually get a smorgasbord of Muffet’s baking all to himself. God, he was enjoying this way too much. 

Finishing up, he clanked the tray onto the nearby counter, which he could just barely make out in the dimness. 

"Good.” Muffet quietly clicked with impatience. “Now consume these." 

A large, round plate was shoved into Sans’s bony hands…and he quivered at the mere sight of it. Piled up on top were several flaky, fluffy, browning croissants, coated in sticky sweetness and oozing with warm chocolate from the inside. Nothing seemed particularly spider-themed about them, but…they were definitely different from the croissants she’d tried selling before. Their appeal had been amped up to eleven. 

"Oh, nice. Edible boomerangs.” Sans joked, but he was already stuffing the first into his mouth, nearly melting with pleasure. “ _Mmmmmmmm_ , gosh…” A bit of drippy chocolate squeezed onto his cheekbone, and his eye-sockets half-closed, dazedly. He was still chewing, but holding the half-munched croissant close, eager for the rest of it. “Theesh ones'r _perfec_!" 

"Don’t speak with your mouth stuffed,” Muffet admonished from the shadows. “It’s very unbecoming." 

"But seriously…” Sans gulped the next sweet, puffy mass down. “You need to use these for sure. They’d sell like hot cakes–literally." 

She didn’t respond, but Sans could swear he heard her giggling to herself as he dug into the pastries again. She was probably busy cooking the next batch and preparing it for "testing” anyway. 

There were six of them, each as big as a puffed-up banana. Warm and gooey and sticky, even as they converted to magic energy and slid down inside him. As he ate and ate, Sans blocked out his surroundings, temporarily forgetting where he was. His senses filled with the comfort of the pastries crumbling, squishing, pressing around his mouth and into his warm, percolating sack of energy. Again…again… 

When Sans’s hand reached, grasping at air and an empty plate, his heart felt automatically disappointed. Was it over already? 

_Glurp_. The tiny noise caught his attention, and he looked down to the round little lump in his lap. One dozen cookies and six croissants was quite a bit–certainly enough for a meal–and as he stared at the curvature, he realized that it was cresting a little further outwards now. It seemed slightly pushed up, too–firm and warm with the magic swirling inside it. His “belly” was full…contentedly full. But…hey, he’d never let that stop him before. 

“All done?” Muffet strode over, taking the empty, crumby plate from him and swiftly replacing it with a new plate. Her voice sounded weirdly lilting. “You’ve given me some interesting feedback thus far–now time for these." 

A hill of round little pastries precariously rested over the new plate. From the side, Sans could see a swirl of purple jelly rolled into the fluffy dough. Extra dough pieces extended from the end, like legs. Spider jelly rolls, perhaps? Well, whatever they were, in they went. 

Personally, Sans much preferred the croissants, but the rolls were still quite tasty in their own right. The cool, squishy jelly mingled with the soft fluff of its casing rather well. And they were small enough for him to pop one into his mouth whole. 

Halfway through, Sans began to feel the little twinges at his middle–the signal from his tummy that it was too full and it was stretching itself out to make enough room. Sans let out a disturbed huff…and a hiccup squeezed out after it, causing him to quickly grip his stomach to steady himself. It was time to get a look at this mess… 

Yup…his belly had puffed out, bulging a little rounder, insistently lifting his shirt and making its presence known. The plate of remaining rolls in his lap had slid further to his knees, almost on the edge of teetering off. Though he slightly blushed behind the curtain of darkness, Sans lifted the plate with one hand, patting at his bloated roundness with the other. "Getting a little desperate for attention there, buddy?" 

His packed little ball of magic felt warm under his finger-bones, glowing and bubbling just under the surface. Ah, it always felt so nice… Time to give it a little more. 

Indulgently, Sans plucked the rolls from their plate, tipping his head back and popping each into his mouth, one by one. Dollops of jelly squelched onto his face, little crumbs sticking to the corners of his mouth. Each little bundle of energy pressed into the warm mound of magic, gurgling as it mounted and mounted. And then…finally, the plate turned up empty again. 

"Aw, man. And I was on a _roll_. _U-Urp_!" 

Sans’s overloaded belly bubbled, uncomfortably, and he found himself rubbing at it to help it settle. 

"Goodness! What a glutton.” Before he’d even noticed her, Muffet was standing before him again, two of her arms crossed, another two bobbing with agitation. “Such a shame you have no meat of your own…I’m sure you would be fat and succulent… Such a shame…" 

Despite himself, Sans’s magical blush grew darker…though he wouldn’t let his nervousness show in his eyes. "Heh. If it was your goal to fatten someone up with this little "job”, you’ve got the wrong guy. _Hurp_! I’m perpetually skin and bones. Minus the skin.“ 

"Not exactly.” Muffet winked, her fanged smile curling again. “After all, you’re not finished quite yet. Report, please." 

” _Urf_ ….“ Sans rolled himself backwards, catching his balance on the stool. It was quickly becoming too small for him. By now, his pseudo-stomach had bulged up a little further, forcing his waistband down. A gap of the blue membrane had emerged, sticking out and proudly, softly glowing. The tips of his finger-bones massaged into it slightly. 

"Uhhh, well they were good. Maybe a little less jelly and more roll? That should be a bit _batter_. _Hic_! Oh, jeez…" 

"Alright, then…” Muffet turned her head and clapped twice in succession with another set of hands. Almost as soon as she did, a scuffling sounded…and something rather disturbing emerged from the dark. 

A cupcake-shaped creature with long, spidery legs and huge, sharp teeth scuttled up to her side, at waist-level. Something silvery balanced carefully on its rounded head, and it looked up at it with beady eyes. 

“There we are, my pet… You’ve been keeping that warm for me, haven’t you?" 

The creature made a sort of growling noise and lowered itself, sitting down on its cup-like body. And then, Sans could make out the object on its head… A pie. A creamy, orange-tinted pie, sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Was that…his next dish? 

"Erm…” His hands smoothed down the round, outward bulges of his sides. “Gotta be honest with ya here… I’m not sure how much more I can handle…" 

"Welllllll…” Muffet’s voice was completely a hiss now, a taunting, slithering sound. One hand picked up the pie, another grabbed a fork, another took up a wedge, and the rest planted themselves on her hips. And her form advanced, coming to a firm halt only a few inches away from Sans. 

Reflexively, Sans weakly swung his legs, as if warning her. There wasn’t much he could do to defend himself, but he reminded himself that he _could_ still teleport if he needed to…though it might be a little painful. 

“If you plan on getting _paid_ …you need to at least _finish_ the job, don’t you? Ahuhuhuhuhu…" 

Sans shivered, but he couldn’t tell whether it was from fear or desire. If he was honest with himself, he really enjoyed…pushing his limits like this. Apprehension, maybe. "Eh. Well, it seems _crust_ worthy, at least. I’ll give it a– _hic_ –try." 

And all at once, it began, a blob of gooey, smooth, mushy, spiced dessert filling in his mouth, lazily breaking down, absorbing into thrilling tastes. Another forkful zipped in close. 

Muffet was feeding him…actively feeding him, expertly managing the task and even using one hand to wipe off his face with a napkin. It was…very strange, to say the least, but Sans was actually kind of grateful. There wasn’t enough space left on his lap, anyway… Her creepy little titters of amusement fluttered around him with each bite she shoved in. Ah, well, she probably thought this was hilarious somehow. 

Sans slid his eye-holes shut and gave himself over to the indulgence, ignoring everything else. The pie really was quite good–soft and just the right balance of creamy and crunchy. Even the crust was tasty and complimented the cinnamon-dusted filling just perfectly. 

"Ahuhu! Good?” Muffet closed her myriad of eyes, giggling, once the first slice had disappeared. “The filling is made with our premium spider cider, of course." 

So that explained its strange, yet intriguing taste…but the cinnamon flavoring helped to mask any of the cider’s aftertaste. Time for the next slice. She really wanted him to eat the entire pie, didn’t she? 

Desperately, Sans massaged into the sides of his bloated magic belly, gently pushing the churning masses of energy along, even as he took more and more in. Easing each new mouthful inside and finding it a space, even when it seemed like there was none left. Two more pieces somehow found their way in, and he could swear he felt the surface of his warm tummy stretch a tiny bit tighter. It was…a good feeling, actually. Heavy and weighted down and over-saturated with baked goodness. Tightly packed with softly drifting spurts of magic in glowing shades of blue. One more… 

"Mmmf…uff…” At last, only two pieces of the pie remained, and Sans was actually starting to struggle. Clearly, he’d reached past the point of “pleasantly overfilled” and into the realm of “painfully overstuffed”. By now, his shirt had slid all the way up to his ribs, exposing his entire ballooning midsection–round and tight as an over-inflated beach ball. 

“ _Ooof_ , er… Th-this…sure isn’t a piece of cake.” Even Sans couldn’t believe he was still making terrible jokes in this state. Supposedly, it was a method of calming himself. “I’m really _stuff_ ering now…ugh… M-Might hafta…" 

Something tight and slightly sticky suddenly yanked itself around his wrists, pulling his arms back and clenching them in place. With a hiccup of alarm, Sans turned his head, noticing that a dense cluster of webbing had suddenly tied itself around his hands and arms, binding them in place. He must have angered her…or she was just having fun being aggressive. 

” _Noooooo_ no. I will not have you cheap out on me now. Finish the job.“ 

Reflexively, Sans gulped as Muffet glided in closer. "Er, I would…but it appears I’m a little tied up." 

"Oh, come now. Don’t pretend that you don’t want to…" 

She was right…dammit, she was right. Sans couldn’t tear his focus away from the feeling of his very soul thumping inside his ribcage. Yearning to finish–to completely, completely finish. 

” _Hff_ …w-welp… Suppose this is the first job I won’t… _fff_ …ever slack off at…“ 

And he accepted the next forkful that she insistently pushed at his face. 

It felt awkward, yet somehow thrilling…the powerlessness of his bound arms as he continued to struggle, jamming down bundles of squishy pie energy. He had no choice…but this choice was what he would have chosen anyway. He was probably insane….but he didn’t care. 

The process was slow and agonizing. Each bite caused a ripple of pain to pulse through Sans’s distended magical dome. The energy inside buzzed against him, unhappy with the overcrowding. But at the same time, he was shuddering with desire. Sinfully achy, overindulging on top of overindulgence. 

At least Muffet seemed to understand, patiently allowing him enough time to arduously swallow before thrusting another bite towards him. Perhaps she was used to this sort of thing… 

Against all odds, the mushy cider-based pie slices finally, finally disappeared. 

Sans moaned, sickeningly, and desperately wished he could rub at his strained belly, utterly packed solid. The last two crumbled bits of crust remained…but Muffet blessedly pulled away, crumpling the tin with apparent satisfaction. 

A hot flood of relief filled Sans’s soul as the webbing loosened from his arms, allowing him to pull them free. Immediately, his bony palms cupped over his immense roundness, almost like he was trying to hold himself together. This was the biggest he’d become in quite a long time, he realized, as he carefully felt around the expanse. God, it almost reached his kneecaps. Everything inside there was just so tight, he couldn’t even push out a burp. Yet it still felt… _good_. Terribly, horribly good. A masochistic kind of good. 

” _There_ there. Here you are, you greedy little thing.“ Muffet returned a few minutes later, and her mutant pet skittered off when she pushed past it. Stepping close within view, she reached with one arm…and pressed a coin onto the top swell of Sans’s ball of a belly. 

With a winded grunt, he reached up for it, squeezing it between two finger-bones. ”……….50G? Th…That’s it?!“ 

"Well, dearie, you already have about 50,000G worth of my wonderful baked goods within you. I’d say it’s a fair trade. You only offered your assistance because you wanted to get paid to eat, yes? I say the eating should be payment in itself, then." 

"H-How… You…Y-You… _Ooff_ , ohhhhh…” Sans trembled and weakly tried to raise himself from his seat. It took several attempts, and he eventually had to sort of roll back and forth, tucking his arms underneath his weighty stomach to slightly balance out the weight. When he took a few steps forward, he found himself shuffling, barely bending his legs. It was the only way to move without toppling over. 

Of course, he wanted to argue with her…but right now, he was just too winded and exhausted and far too stuffed. All he really wanted to do was lie down in a soft heap of cushions and let the drowsy haze of inundation overtake him. 

“ _But_ …” Muffet’s arms undulated slightly, a little teasing lilt in her voice. “That was only your pay for the taste-testing job. Here is your pay for being such amusing entertainment.” With that, she dropped a few more coins onto the shelf of Sans’s protruding middle, one with each hand. 

He struggled to shift himself and pick them up without losing his balance. 600G. Well, that was more like it. 

“Eheh…” Quickly, he deposited the coins into one of the pockets of his hoodie, which was hanging back under his arms, since the flaps couldn’t fit anywhere over him anymore. “W-well then, glad to be of– _ip_ –of service." 

Sans forced himself to wink, and the effort of talking finally squeezed up a tiny half-hiccup. Tenderly, he patted at the taut, protruding fruit of his labors. "All of your dishes were scrumptious…and filling. Really sticks to the ribs. _Rrf_." 

"Uhuhuhu, how wonderful.” The spider-girl pressed two hands to her mouth, giggling and flushing a barely-noticeable tint of darker purple. “If you ever want to come by again, I’ll let you know when there’s work to be done…" 

"Sure…" 

Muffet’s other arms waved as Sans began to shuffle away, and he managed to give an acknowledging nod in return. Well, _that_ had certainly been an experience. 

It took him several minutes to drag himself out of the darkened spider area, but he dared not risk teleporting right now. It might upset his sensitive stomach and cause some sort of energy leakage, which he definitely did not want to deal with. 

Continually, he rubbed the tender membrane in slow circles, its warmth seeping into his bones. It creaked and churned and gurgled, painfully. Thoroughly glutted…too much for it to handle, the poor thing. Even so, Sans couldn’t help but chuckle as he soothed and appeased it, carefully starting on the exceedingly slow trek back to his room. 

”…That’s the last time I get tangled up in the affairs of spiders.“


	7. Love is Plush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cute stuff with UndynexAlphys, requested by blushingmess.
> 
> Alphys was so excited for her date…that was, until she found it so difficult to squeeze into her date-night dress… But what does Undyne really think…?
> 
> Weight gain, hurt/comfort, and fluff!

**Love is Plush**

“Oh no. Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohno…”

The short, yellow lizard felt her inner world crashing and falling in on itself, her energy and spirit dropping straight down into the pits of her stomach. Everything had been wonderful, everything had been lined with sparkles and rainbows, until…

“Mmmph!” Doctor Alphys’s small, clawed hands dug into the clingy fabric hugging her waist and yanked it down with all her might. The delicate seams of the dress creaked against the strain…but it finally stretched down, incredibly taut. A gasp pressed out of her lungs. It was too tight. Plain and simple. It was much too tight.

Heat pumped into her face—a deep, deep blush—and she could already feel herself beginning to perspire with anxiety. “M-Maybe…M-M-Maybe it’s not too bad…” Speaking aloud to help comfort herself, Alphys padded over to an unfolded fold-away mirror beside her currently boxed-up bed. Just to get a look…just to make sure…

It was way, way worse than she’d hoped. Sweat coated her scales as she stood, staring at her reflection in utter guilt and humiliation.

The dress—her cute little swanky polka-dot dress, the one she used for very special occasions only—was squeezing her like an additional skin, accenting every squished-up bulge and roll of plush, flabby fat at her middle. Her breasts tightly squeezed against the fabric as well—but they were woefully overshadowed by her belly and thighs, oozing with softness. She dared not try to bend in this garment, and sitting down was entirely impossible—the poor thing would just bust wide open.

“Ah…” Overwhelmed, Alphys tore away from the sight, burying her face in her hands with utter shame. “I-I-I should’ve known! I should’ve…” It wasn’t like she’d been completely oblivious…

Memories flashed through her mind… Late nights of downing cups and cups of strawberry ice cream, steeped in self-loathing. Shoveling chips nervously into her mouth during a climactic moment in Super Miracle Academy: LOVE Battle, not realizing how much she’d eaten until the entire 12oz bag turned up empty. Rubbing circles into the side of her aching tummy after an unexpected noodle binge, begging her body to let her get some rest… Up until now, whatever bits of pudge she’d gained had been neatly concealed beneath her long, draped lab coats…but now, she couldn’t hide her shameful indulgences any longer.

“Uhhhhuhhhh…” Dark clouds of misery descended on Alphys’s heart, blocking out any positive feelings she’d once had about herself today, and she sank to her knees, tucking into the smallest ball she could manage without bending. And…today she’d even set a date with Undyne…she’d been looking forward to it all week…she’d been working hard to get to this point, and yet…

Alphys barely restrained herself from bursting into tears. She didn’t need to look even more pathetic right now.

I have to…I have to cancel the date. The thought came to her like a glorious blessing, and immediately, her shoulders and her clenched lungs began to relax. That’s it. I’ll just…call up Undyne. And cancel. Wait until…I’ve lost a little weight and I’m not a mess. It’s okay.

There was absolutely no way she would let Undyne see her like this. Strong, sleek, toned, glorious, heroic, surprisingly kind (and not to mention incredibly hot) Undyne… She’d never accept such a fat, self-serving slob.

“Y-Yeah…” Alphys gradually began to convince herself. Carefully, she fished out her cell phone, claws trembling as she brought it closer, hovering one stubby finger at the touch screen. With pants and shivers and pockets of sweat beading up on her brow, she desperately swiped through her contacts, stopping right there at the name “Undyne” surrounded by tildes and less-than-three signs.

That’s it. It’s okay. I’ll just call her and…say I can’t make it. Say I’m too swarmed with work. Say I need to stop a malfunction in the CORE before it entirely shuts down and leaves people stranded… Say that…

Alphys’s heart went cold, racing thoughts freezing to a halt when she went over her own words. I can’t.

Of course. The last time she’d seen Undyne, they’d made a promise. A promise to never lie to each other. She’d made a solemn, absolute promise to never, ever lie or hide things from her again. To be a better person, a stronger person…

It was all too much. The poor, overwhelmed, pudgy lizard let a few little tears squeeze out from her eyes. But I can’t! I can’t let her see me like this. She’ll never want to see me again. What if I told her…I can’t find anything to wear? It’s a stupid excuse, but it’s not really a lie… And somehow, I don’t think she’d really buy that…

With a heavy, panicked heart, Alphys stashed her phone away again, falling into a mess of sobs. But then…

An enormous, ear-splitting crash, almost as big as an explosion rocked the main level of the lab.

Alphys flinched, wobbling to her feet again, even more adrenaline shooting through her. Then…

“Alphys!” A boisterous voice called out. Just as the jittering lizard descended her conveyor-escalator, Undyne appeared, amid the crumbling rubble of the front door, flashing a huge grin and clutching a spear and a box tucked under her arm.

“W-W-What?!”

“Uh, sorry. You weren’t answering your door, so I just decided to bust in. And I’m kinda early, I guess. Oh, well! Better sooner than later!”

“U-U-U-U-Undyne!!!” Alphys’s heart revved into overdrive, and she nearly passed out on the spot. After all her deliberations, before she’d been able to decide what she should do, it was all over. All over. She was losing her front door and her girlfriend. All in one sudden swoop. Her body cemented to the spot, overtaken with fear.

Undyne carefully stepped over the fallen bits of melting metal and jagged stone, letting her spear dissipate and scratching awkwardly at one gill. “So…you ready? Almost ready? It’s fine if you’re not, but I figured we should start as soon as possible! Why not? Hm? C’mon, let’s get outta this place—I’m pouring sweat out here already. …Alphys?”

It seemed she’d noticed that Alphys wasn’t responding, and she stomped closer, tilting her head at her pale, wide-eyed face, her ponytail waving. “Uh…something wrong, Alphys?”

“Aih…” All that came out of her slack jaw was a tiny squeak. This was it. Her life was over. Happiness was over.

“Um…” Undyne glanced away, the expression in her one visible eye actually a little crestfallen. “Listen, I’ll pay for the door. I really should have tried calling you or something first. I just…acted on impulse. Sorry.”

“N-N-N-No, no, no!” Alphys’s voice was still much too high-pitched, but she at least managed to get the words out this time. Her hands rapidly waved it off. “I-It’s f-fine! The door! It’s fine! I don’t care! I…”

“It’s something else, then?” Undyne carefully set aside her package and firmly planted her fists on her hips. “Hey, are you worried about our date? Don’t be! It’s gonna be awesome! And you look great! You’ve got that hella cute little dress on, too! I love it!”

As soon as the word “dress” left her lips, Alphys was silently crying again, unable to stop the tears in her frozen state. Unable to think about anything besides the destruction of her world.

“Whoa! Hey…” Undyne’s face softened, in a rare sympathetic expression. “Hey, it’s okay. Alphys…”

Before she could shiver or shy away, Undyne’s arms had wrapped around Alphys’s neck, pulling her in close and embracing her, giving her a firm back rub. “Alphys. Tell me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

And she couldn’t. She couldn’t lie. She wasn’t going to lie. She would have to be strong. She would have to…have to end it all. End it all herself. The feeling of her beloved’s caring touch squeezed her heart even more. Get it out. Get it out…

“A-A-Ah… I-I wasgonnacancelthedatecauseIlookterribleandIgotreallyfatandthisdressdoesn’tevenfitanymoreand…gasp…Ifiguredyou’dhatemeandnotwannaseemeagaincauseI’mjustafatslobandisitaroundeatingpotatochips…gasp…buticouldn’tlietoyouijustcouldn’tlietoyouandi’msogrossand…!!!”

“Shhhhh.” Undyne only shushed, as usual, as all the feelings and words burst forth at once.

Once Alphys had finally run out of steam, limply hanging in her arms, she gently pulled back a little…and with her thumb and the side of her finger, softly pinched up one little squishy roll near Alphys’s hip.

She squeaked, her snout completely covered in rosy blush and sticky tears.

“Oh, Alphys. You just don’t get it at all.”

“A-Ah…”

“You’re worried about this? This stuff…this freakin’ softness, this abundance…this chub… I……I love it.”

“W-Whuh?” Alphys shuddered and adjusted her glasses, flabbergasted, and wondering if she’d heard that correctly. Was she just fantasizing again? Projecting her wishes and ideals onto someone else? But it continued…

Now, it was Undyne’s turn to develop a bit of flush over her upper lip, trailing to the ends of her gills. “You look so damn cute with all this chubbiness on you, seriously. I… Actually, I prefer it that way. Seeing you squeezed into that little black dress is just…”

Her head flicked away, hiding her pinchy, fluttering expression of secretive pleasure. A drop of sweat rolled down her brow. “…really, really hot. Okay? It’s awesome. God, you’re so hot right now.”

“Uh…” At first, Alphys didn’t know how to respond. Her tears dried, her eyes widened, but this time in utter amazement. “……..Are you serious?”

“……….I’m so serious right now.”

“Ah…aha…ahahahahahahaha!” Alphys broke into emotionally drained chuckles, letting all of her fear and humiliation drop away, feeling it gradually leave her body until she was almost light-headed. “Oh my gosh. Ohmygosh. Ohmygosh, Undyne. I’m…s-so happy. I, uh… That’s amazing. You’re amazing. I just…thank you so much…”

Popping back into her usual grin, though with a dusting of blush, Undyne pinched Alphys’s cheeks so hard, she almost lifted her off the ground. “That’s right, nerd! Your chub is the cutest thing ever! And I won’t stop until you think so, too!”

Alphys let out a shriek-squeal of delight, as Undyne suddenly kissed her neck…and then nuzzled her head right into her plush, round, pillowy midsection.

“B-B-But I got fatter… D-Doesn’t that disgust you?”

“Not at all! Gosh, I’d like it if you got even fatter still! You’re adorable.”

“Ahahahaha! Oh, Undyne!” At last, Alphys fully relaxed, nuzzling her snout over the top of Undyne’s head in return. “Oh, I love you!”

And together, they fell into joyful little kisses and rubs and cuddles. Though this time, Undyne paid special attention to Alphys’s squishy parts, squeezing and patting and tickling at the wonderful softness, and the over-emotional little lizard giggled and squeaked in turn, happy dollops of blush over her cheeks.

At last, after several long, blissful moments, Undyne pulled away, leaving the lush curve of Alphys’s tummy with an affectionate pat. “Eh, well… Let’s get going. As much as I love looking at you, we should probably find you a new dress that’s not so uncomfortable. And I can’t stay in this heat much longer.”

“Y-Yes.” Alphys held her claws to her cheeks, a giddy smile stretching them. “I’m so ready for our date!!”

Undyne scooped up the present she’d brought with a cheeky grin. “Soooooo, you better not refuse the chocolates I got for you then.”

“Chocolates?!”

“Oh, yes. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even feed them to you.”

“Ohhhhhh gosh, yes, yes!” Alphys had entirely cheered up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. And though it would still take some work to get her to completely accept and love her own body, she already felt so much better about all of this. Her weight…had just made her girlfriend even more attracted to her. And Alphys made up her mind to never doubt herself—or Undyne—that much again.

“Come on, let’s go.” Undyne snaked her arm around Alphys’s shoulders, giving her another playful, loving squeeze.

And as they walked away from the ruins of the broken door, it felt like a wonderful new start to a brand new piece of their relationship.


	8. Honey--Bunches!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short fic request for stuffedart! – fluffy, brotherly belly rubs and stuffed US!Paps! 
> 
> I decided to use “orange” magic with him simply because it’s an AU and it doesn’t really matter. I don’t mind US!Paps with orange magic, though I prefer canon Papyrus to have blue.

**Honey--Bunches!**

Clear, high-pitched titters bubbled through the interior of the snow-dusted cabin that night. Bouncing off each wall and ricocheting through the rooms, just like their owner might, had he not been currently occupied. 

“MWEEHEEHEEHEHEHEHHEH! MWEHEHEH! EEHEE!" 

The super-secret, super-special plan was complete! Oh, he was so proud of himself! 

The Magnificent Sans swiped one stubby, bony finger over a large stirring fork that rested against the counter, and with a tiny flash, his blue magic-substance tongue poked out, licking up the small spot of reddish-brown sauce. Good! Ah, very good! The spice was perfect! This time…it would work–he just knew it would! 

With short, joyous hops and skips of triumph, the pudgy little skeleton monster placed covers over his prepared food, lined up all along the kitchen shelf…well, the things that needed covering, at least. Stepping back to look at it all, his huge, blue eye-lights twinkled in their black sockets, and his body quivered, making the hem of his cooking apron slightly flap. Sans had been planning this for quite a while… The idea had come to him one night during dinner, and it had taken time to gather all of this together and put it into action. But at last, his wishes were coming to fruition. At last! 

Unfortunately, not all of these dishes had been cooked by his own hands…but it would’ve been nigh impossible to gather some of these ingredients without taking an extended trip. At least he’d managed to special order a few things…ah, the wonders of online shopping! Not to mention, some would have required essential equipment their pitiful kitchen lacked… This year, he’d have to ask Santa for a deep-frier and a blender. 

Nevertheless, every bit of his masterpiece was in place. All that remained was to wait for… 

_K-ckk!_  

"yo." 

Instantaneously, Sans’s apron was flinging backwards through the air, and a squat blue-and-white bullet was bolting for the front door. 

"aa–Pfft!” The much taller, orange-hooded skeleton in the doorway doubled back as his hyperactive little brother slammed full-force into him–a round little skull hitting him straight in the stomach. “pfhaha…” His voice was a little winded, but he simply cracked a grin at the edges of his narrow face, drumming long phalanges over the top of Sans’s skull. “wow, bro. i know i’m a little late and all, but geez…didn’t need to skull-butt me." 

"SORRY, ‘PYRUS, I’VE JUST BEEN WAITING FOR EONS!” Sans popped himself away from his brother, leaping back and hopping from foot to foot on the carpet. 

“heh. and how long is 'eons’? five minutes?” Papyrus teased, moving from the doorway and scuffling to the sofa, tracking a few wet trails of snow from the soles of his sneakers. “though i bet ya already got all the tacos set out, right?" 

"NUH-UH!!” Small Sans was vibrating with anticipation. He leaped right in front of his brother’s reclining pose and his face squished itself, narrowing his eye-sockets and folding the malleable material over his teeth in a tiny, secretive smile. “…WE’RE NOT HAVING TACOS TONIGHT." 

"what?!” The surprise on Papyrus’s face was half-genuine. Sure they didn’t have tacos _every_ single night, but the taco to non-taco ratio was still about forty-nine-to-one.  And if Sans had made something that wasn’t a taco, it was very likely a huge pile of mush. Nervous sweat beaded at the base of Papyrus’s skull, and his small eye-sockets glanced to the side. “er…i’ll try it out, of course, but uh…don’t count on anything, bro." 

"OH, I DON’T THINK YOU WILL FIND THIS DINNER UNAPPEALING…” That slightly concerning, devious smile remained in place on Sans’s face, and he impatiently tugged at Papyrus’s loose orange sleeve. “COME, COME HITHER!" 

"oh…but if there’s bananas involved, then it _will_ be un-a- _peeling_.” Papyrus got out a lazy joke, even though he stood up at his brother’s insistence and followed the bouncing blueberry-like skeleton to the kitchen. 

“HUSH! NO BANANAS HERE AT ALL! TAKE A GANDER AT _THIS_!” Planting himself before the shelf, Sans puffed out his chest in pride……and Papyrus could only stare, dumbfounded. 

Five plates and a dish were lined up, including a small pile of donuts, several little round pastries, a bowl of what looked to be peanuts, and two more mystery food that remained covered. This was some sort of _feast_. 

“…okay, ya got me,” he finally managed to speak. “what’s the special occasion?" 

"NOTHING!” Sans lifted onto his tiptoes, spreading his arms to make himself appear larger. “I JUST GATHERED A SPECIAL MEAL ATTUNED TO YOUR ODD TASTES!” Whirling with excitement, he swept the dishes onto the pre-set table, even though he had to really stretch himself to reach some. A few of the pastries nearly toppled out of their pile. 

Though his expression was still confused and curious, Papyrus took his seat once everything was set, and Sans stood up on his chair, presiding over the table like some sort of warlord. 

“EVERYTHING YOU SEE HERE IS MADE WITH YOUR MOST FAVORITE OF INGREDIENTS–HONEY!" 

"seriously?” Papyrus experimentally picked up one of the buns and brought it close to his nasal cavity, sniffing its scent. Sticky, sweet icing covered the soft bread, seeping into its outer crust. _Honey buns_. These definitely weren’t sold in town, and they were too perfect to be Sans’s own creation. He must have ordered them from somewhere… 

“that’s amazing.” He took a bite, letting the soft bun fill his jaw, and tasting the faraway, but familiar sweet, syrupy bite of the honey mixed in. “mmmm. i simply can’t _bee-leive_ it!" 

"OH GOD.” Sans rolled his round eye-lights, plopping back down on his butt and crossing his arms. “I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. YOU BETTER ENJOY THIS." 

In only a few quick bites, Papyrus had finished the bun, and he reached out for a second one. "excuse me, i’m just impressed that you could _bee_ so perceptive. so forgive me if i _drone_ on." 

"AAAAUGH! THESE BEE PUNS ARE EVEN WORSE THAN YOUR SKELETON PUNS!" 

Despite his performance of irritation, Sans was truly overjoyed. Papyrus seemed really happy, really eager to eat these honeyed foods he’d prepared for him…which was extremely rare. It was wonderful to see him pop the last of his second bun into his mouth, then merrily materialize his slender, translucent orange tongue to lick the sweet coating from the ends of his phalanges. Usually, he _never_ went through the trouble of creating his tongue…but it seemed he really, really wanted to enjoy this, and that sent Sans’s little heart soaring. 

"ah, calm down, honeybee, this is nothin’.” He picked up one of the donuts, now, looking it over. They were honey-glazed, of course–easily found at Muffet’s cafe, and probably his favorite solid food. 

“YOU’RE THE HONEYBEE.” Sans had to eat something, too, so he uncovered one of the warm dishes, revealing a small pile of lumpy synthetic chicken tenders covered in–of course–honey barbecue sauce, and plonked a couple onto his plate. “…I TAKE THAT BACK. YOU’RE MORE OF A HONEY _BEAR_.”

“yup.” Impressively, Papyrus had already finished his donut, taking up another. “and that would make you the bee, since you provided it.” He raised the donut in a mock toast. “so by all means, _bee_ all that you can _bee_." 

"URGH!” Sans cried, slamming his gloved fists on the table while Papyrus snickered and filled his face with donut. Fortunately, he mostly kept his mouth shut after that–or, more accurately, full of sweet and savory goodness. 

Sans ate silently and slowly, observing his brother’s consumption with growing awe. Two more buns disappeared into him. Then, he tried some of the chicken, messily lifting their spicy, sweet sauce-drenched chunks to his crunching teeth with his bare hands. Some of it dribbled off his angular jaw bone, and he licked up whatever he could, just leaving the rest smeared over his face. It was disgusting, but it made Sans so happy. Sure, Papyrus had always been a messy eater, but usually just because he was too lazy to clean up–not because he was so overzealous about getting everything into his mouth as quickly as possible. 

His hand dipped into the dish, extracting a bundle of burnt red nuts and gradually munching through them. Honey-roasted peanuts, naturally. Each little sweet coated nut crunched and snapped as he happily chomped them down, refilling his mouth as soon as it emptied. 

At last, Sans uncovered the final dish–a meaty chunk of honeyed ham, or a good imitation thereof, and Papyrus went right for it, leaving him to scoop out some of the peanuts for himself. 

After a few slices of ham, Papyrus paused in his sticky chewing, looking over to Sans with eye sockets so much softer and more relaxed than usual. “this is all so delicious, sans. _hrrmp!_ did you make any of it, or did you buy it all?" 

Sans squinted one eye-socket at the strange little sound. Was…that some sort of hiccup or burp? "WHILE I DID MAKE AMPLE USE OF THE INTERWEB, I DID INDEED COOK THE HAM IN THE OVEN! AND I CREATED THE SAUCES MYSELF!" 

"goojjob.” Papyrus stuffed another handful of peanuts into his mouth, swallowed, and then spoke up again. “i gotta ask, though… what… uh– _mmp!_ what spurred this on? 'sthere somethin’ you want from me or somethin’?” He sawed himself off another slice of ham. 

“NO, NOTHING OF THE SORT!” Sans firmly set down his napkin and sat up as tall as he could without getting to his feet. “THE ONLY REASON IS SIMPLY THAT I WANTED YOU TO EAT." 

"mm?” Still chewing, Papyrus twisted his skull at him, questioningly. 

“I KNOW THAT YOU EAT MY TACOS, YES, BUT IT’S SIMPLY OUT OF NECESSITY. DON’T THINK I HAVEN’T NOTICED.” With a more mature air, Sans folded his hands before him on the table. “YOU NEVER REALLY EAT MUCH–IN FACT, YOU HARDLY EAT AT ALL! IT WORRIED ME. AND I WANTED YOU TO EAT WELL…FOR ONCE. EVERYTHING THAT YOU’D ENJOY. SO, I’M SUPER DUPER GLAD RIGHT NOW!” At the end of his little speech, his eye-light shined. “EAT AS MUCH AS YOU LIKE, 'PYRUS! GO, EAT!" 

"eheh…” Despite himself, a vaguely orange flush was appearing below Papyrus’s pointy cheekbones. “aw, man…you didn’ hafta…do all this. wow, thanks, sans…" 

"HUSH, HUSH! JUST CONTINUE!" 

"heh…s-sure thing… _ulp!_ ” Papyrus sucked the last of the ham slice directly into him, then reached over to snatch a donut from the plate. Once that went down, he really did let out a burp, clear and loud, to which Sans muttered “gross”, and he shot him a cheeky, wide grin. 

More. More, and the donut platter was suddenly empty, covered in crumbs from what it had once contained. Sans was frankly astounded at how much his brother was managing to put away. Papyrus’s magical stomach-organ was much smaller and flatter than his own, after all… How was it all fitting inside there? Did he have some sort of magical processing that allowed it to integrate and discharge faster? For a long time, he’d know that Papyrus’s magic was different from his…but could it really be _that_ different? Still…he couldn’t see his midsection underneath the table, with his position leaning inward…and he was sadly too short to see much anyway. Maybe…? 

By now, Sans had finished his own meal, his own magical tank feeling full and content…not overly so, but sufficiently sated. Yet, his dinner had only been a quarter of what Papyrus was now packing away…and his belly was naturally larger. 

“ _mmmff_ …" 

Worriedly, Sans noticed his brother’s usually chill and lackadaisical face pinching here and there. His brow twitched up during a mouthful of barbecue chicken, the expression looking almost a bit ill. And then, the chicken was gone, and Papyrus was left huffing and pushing out pained little burps as he leaned closer over the table. 

"UH…” Uneasily, Sans decided he had to say something. “DON’T FEEL THAT YOU NEED TO EAT _EVERYTHING_ , THOUGH…" 

"fff…nah… _mmf_ …” Despite the pain showing on his face, Papyrus cracked a weak grin. “i wanna.” And he stubbornly pulled the dish of remaining peanuts right in front of him. 

San’s teeth parted, dropping his small, round jaw open as Papyrus’s slender hands curled around the bowl, bringing it up…and tipping it forward to his mouth. 

_Crnchcrunchmunchcrnch!_ “rrrrrrgh…uff…mmmph…” _Crinchcrunchcrnch!_  

It was slow and agonizing, but eventually…finally… He pulled the dish away, letting it clink heavily back to the table, empty. 

A long, winded moan dragged out of him, and his sockets squeezed shut. Wow….only two honey buns and a very small piece of ham remained on the table. Sans himself had only eaten about three pieces of chicken and two handfuls of nuts. _All_ the rest of that…all those donuts, most of the buns, most of the ham, half the chicken, three-fourths of the nuts… 

At last, at last, Papyrus’s slightly shaking arms pushed back on the table, sliding his chair away from it, as if forcing himself to resist. Sitting up a little, Sans was awed to see that, yes, there was a definite _lump_ at his brother’s waist. Even through his baggy hoodie, it was easy to see that it had grown tighter over a solid mass that surely hadn’t been there earlier.   

“ _uuuuuuugh_ … _Ooohhhhhh_ … mmph, god… god, i want the rest of that, but… _uuhhhhhuhhuh_ , i’m fit to burst.” Crunching his long limbs inward, his hands cupped over his midsection, cradling it and pressing it, as if trying to hold it back. With the fabric pulled flush against it, its true size and shape was visible, and Sans had to practically stifle a gasp. 

His brother’s belly was actually _round_ … Ripe and round and bulging, the size of a children’s basketball. Sure, he’d expected him to eat a lot, but…he’d never anticipated that he’d gorge himself this much. Papyrus, who usually subsided on a couple of tacos and a bottle of honey a day. No wonder it hurt–his poor stomach wasn’t used to holding this much magical substance. 

“AH-!” Sans snapped to attention, fluttering through the kitchen to cover the ham and wrap up the buns, shoving them away in the refrigerator…though in the process, he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Papyrus. He’d started gingerly rubbing at his over-bloated belly, breathing carefully and whining out little noises of pain. 

“I’M SORRY.” Sans came to his brother’s side as soon as he’d finished. “IT GAVE YOU A BELLYACHE, DIDN’T IT?" 

"heh…only 'cuz… _rrrrff_ …i bit off a lil more than i could…i could chew…huh _uffff_! or that i could stomach, more like it. eheheheheh… _ooohhhhhh shit_! ohhhhhhh, laughing hurts…let’s not do that again." 

"ALLOW ME.” Without thinking anything of it, Sans’s little blue-gloved hand was sliding up over the outward bump of Papyrus’s overstuffed little belly and insistently nudging his own hands out of the way. Though Papyrus blushed a tiny bit underneath his sockets, embarrassed to have his younger brother soothing him like this, he allowed him access, shifting his hands up to rest at the very top of his tummy, where it rounded out from him. He was still so thin, it looked almost comically distended. 

Warmth seeped through Sans’s gloves and straight into his bones as soon as he made contact with the overfilled little balloon. It was just…giving off this soft warmth that was surprisingly pleasant. As he began to soothingly, gently rub, he could feel how _firm_ it was, too…the rubbery membrane of that poor belly was pulled out so taut, a dense concentration of food energy packed so tightly inside of it. He’d really filled himself to his absolute limit… 

After a moment, Sans added his other hand, softly rubbing in slow, gentle, alternating circles. 

“mmmh…ugh…” Papyrus was still moaning, but it was coming quieter now, a little less frequent. “s-sans…you don’t hafta… just…doing all this for me and…making me all this, it’s… _hmmp_! it’s much more than appreciated. really. i haven’t…h-haven’t had such a good meal in… _ooffff_ , i dunno how long." 

"HUSH!” Sans demanded. And decidedly, he pulled back a moment to lift his own body up, onto Papyrus’s kneecaps, where there was _just_ enough space left on his lap for him to sit. Insistently, he tugged the end of the hoodie up…and the tank top underneath it. 

And there it was, finally, poking out in all its over-saturated glory. Papyrus’s round little ball of a tummy, glowing faintly in a soft orange magic color. 

Bubbles and streaks of viscous, squeezed-in magic substance lazily drifted and curled around each other just beneath the surface…a goopy, jewel-like amber, just like all the honey-themed foods that had filled it so well. The soft, tight little curve of that bulge was even warmer when Sans touched it, almost too hot. Just too much magic being processed and churned around inside there. And he began to rub again, tenderly, around the sides and over the front, being extra careful to be feather-light on the poor, overtaxed membrane. 

“…I want…to help.” At close range, Sans forcibly lowered his voice. “You deserve this. You definitely deserve this, for eating so well today. Good gracious, you ate so, so well. I’m just so glad, 'Pyrus. So glad." And he truly was, with all his heart. Looking fondly on that little belly, so overabundant with nourishing magic now… All that food he’d so desperately needed… It made him want to shout for joy. 

As he soothingly caressed, easing the pain away in tiny increments, he felt a mild tickling bubble underneath…then again. Papyrus’s stuffed little belly was _bubbling_. 

_Grr_ … _glrplgurp_ … And gurgling, too. 

Sans moved his skilled, stubby fingers to the little tingling spots and rubbed over them in easing little circles. Then… 

"hih-URRRP!" 

Papyrus clapped a hand across his teeth, startled, himself, at how loud that had come out. "holy…uh- _arp_! Ooohh, god.” His blush deepened just a tad. “eheh. feels good to have that outta me." 

Usually, Sans would be disgusted by his brother’s thunderous belch…but right now, it was a very good sign, and he couldn’t help just grinning in satisfaction. "Mweheh! You’re sooooooo full, 'Pyrus." 

” _hurp_! that’s an understatement. it’s gonna start comin’ out my ears. if i had any, that is.“ 

Sans just continued his strategic rubs and tiny massages, easing the churning little bubbles through and producing more burps of relief. Soon, Papyrus’s moaning had melted into the occasional pleasant hum, punctuated by soft belches. His tummy didn’t really feel any less firm under Sans’s gloves, but it apparently wasn’t hurting him so much anymore. 

"ah…ahhhh, oh… thanks, sans. just thank you so much. that feels a lot better. your rubbing feels really nice. i really can’t thank you enough. ah…it was so good. and…it feels pretty good now. my stomach certainly thanks you, too.” The gentle tips of his phalanges rested at the back of Sans’s rubbing hands, and he tucked his skull down, with a drowsy smile. “man, lookit this thing. it’s huge." 

"MWEHEHEH!” Sans tossed his head back to heartily laugh. “IT’S EVEN HUGER THAN MINE! I HAVE SOME SERIOUS COMPETITION!" 

"sure do." 

And suddenly, Papyrus was tucking his smaller brother into a hug. A surprised "meep!” sound came from Sans as he curled over the hard, round lump and shifted his arms to his shoulders. 

“…thanks, sans…” Papyrus’s eye-sockets slid shut, and he looked as comfortable as if he were sitting in a mountain of pillows. Such a calm, peaceful joy… 

“Mweh…you’re very, very welcome, brother." 

"hmmmmm…" 

Sans yanked back, giving a light slap to the side of his cheekbone. "NO FALLING ASLEEP! DON’T YOU DARE FALL ASLEEP IN YOUR CHAIR! GO TO YOUR ROOM!" 

"surrrrre…” And Papyrus’s arms went slack, falling straight into slumber. 

“ _Aaaargh_!” Oh well. 

Carefully, Sans shimmied himself down from Papyrus’s lap, back onto his feet, crossing his arms over his own round, but much softer, belly. His project had been an incredible, resounding success, and his soul swelled with pride. A simple feat for the Magnificent Sans, after all. His brother would probably just crumble to dust if he wasn’t here to look after him. 

But now, he was going to be okay…and his bloated, honey-filled tummy was a clear testament to that. Replete with the nourishment he desperately needed. 

And with a secret grin, Sans resolved that it wouldn’t be the last time…


	9. Collaborative Effort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by sippin-on-ketchup
> 
> Papyrus and US!Sans team up to bake like crazy, and their combined culinary powers start having a certain effect on their brothers…

**Collaborative Effort**

It was no longer a question of “would there be pie”, but “how much pie would there be”. 

Every afternoon was a smorgasbord of crusted pastries filled to the brim with various fruit and sugary, creamy substance. Experimental delights crammed onto the shelves and making everything even more claustrophobic. In hindsight, telling them about pie had probably been a bad idea… 

Sans could already smell the warm, sweet aroma as he lumbered down the staircase, and subconsciously, his magical construct of a belly rumbled. Good lord, already?! Yes, this had definitely been a huge mistake. 

This entire situation was some sort of crazy mistake…an accident, a prank played out by an unseen divine being having a laugh. There was no other explanation…and that bothered Sans more than anything. He was a science skeleton at heart, after all…and when he couldn’t even figure out why something had happened, why these people even _existed_ , it silently drove him even more insane. 

“AH! AND IT’S MY SANS TODAY! I KNEW IT! I SURELY HAD FAITH IN HIM! GOOD MORNING, SANS!" 

"WOWIE! GUESS I HAVE YOU BEAT! I’M SO PROUD OF ME!" 

"I’M PROUD OF ME, TOO! ER, YOU. ER, HIM! IT DOESN’T MATTER–I’M PROUD OF US ALL! NYEH HEH HEH HEH!" 

Sans shuffled into the kitchen to find a scene that was becoming disturbingly common to him lately. His lanky brother was at the counter, vigorously mixing a bowl of vaguely pink paste…and standing on a stool beside him was a carbon copy of Sans himself, except entirely his opposite. The mirror reflection of Sans was beaming with blue-magic-filled eye-sockets and pinching the edges of cool crust into a pie tin with his tiny, gloved fingers. Their capes–one red, one blue–slightly fluttered with their energetic movements. 

Every day, Sans had to readjust to this…even though it had been two whole weeks, he doubted he’d ever fully get used to it–and he’d seen a _lot_ of crazy things in his space-time travels. 

"how’s it going’?” he casually asked, his eye-sockets still weighed down with drowsiness. Mid-afternoon nap was over, and the two bouncy skeletons were busy creating mid-afternoon snack, as they had been almost every single day lately. “where’s the bad influence paps?" 

"OUTSIDE, WITH HIS TOXIC TUBE OF DEATH!” Sans’s chipper clone whirled around on the stool, wiping his hands on his pale pink apron and plonking them on his hips. “THOUGH HE HAD BEST RETURN BEFORE EVERYTHING GETS TOO COLD–OR HE DOESN’T GET FOURTHS THIS TIME!" 

Fourths… Hah. Sans usually went for tenths. 

When he’d discovered these strange anomalies at the edge of the river one day, he’d been reluctant to take them in. Copies of themselves…from some other dimension, some other time, some other layer of potential existence, only warped and changed in ways he’d never thought possible. Sans had never met himself before, though he’d definitely known that he wasn’t the only "Sans”. But he hadn’t been prepared for what to do if he ever did. By all rights, it shouldn’t be possible. Yet it was. 

For the first moments, he’d fretted that being in close proximity to the other skeletons might trigger some sort of tear in the fabric of the universe. It had to be some sort of dimensional paradox, after all. But he’d soon learned that it didn’t seem to affect them…when Papyrus had barreled straight up to them, offering them help and support with opened arms. The small, caped Sans had readily accepted, and it had been right then that Sans noticed how similar they were. Papyrus and that Sans…were the same. And as it turned out, _he_ was the same as the other _Papyrus_. 

Papyrus and that Sans were fast friends, now, and it was wonderful to see him so happy to have a best buddy. They practiced together, they made puzzles together, they played with action figures together, they watched Mettaton together…and most of all, they cooked together. They cooked together all the time. It was quite beneficial, since all this practice had actually made them both decent chefs, but… 

They’d especially been baking a lot recently, after watching a certain episode of Cooking with a Killer Robot. And since Sans had told them about pie, there had been no stopping them. This afternoon, it seemed they had their minds made up to create every single kind of pie that had been discovered. 

“THERE’S NO NEED TO WAIT, THOUGH, BROTHER!” Papyrus glanced over his round shoulder-pad. “PARTAKE OF THE CURRENT AVAILABLE PIE AS MUCH AS YOU WISH!" 

"thanks, er…guys.” Sans still wasn’t sure what to call his other self. Mini Sans? Blue Sans? Calling him Sans at all felt strange, especially since he acted just like Papyrus. Pap Sans? Mini Pap? 

Sans scuffled over to the counter. “y'know i got my p- _eye_ on that custard…" 

"GO AHEAD!” Pap Sans (Pans?!) insisted, proudly. “OUR NEXT CREATION STALL BE STRAWBERRY VANILLA!" 

There were at least five other pies sitting out already, and Sans wondered just how many more they were planning on making. Nevertheless, he sliced himself a large, goopy piece of the custard pie, heavily plopping it onto a plate, and took it, along with a fork and some napkins, into the parlor. 

As he sat down, the waistband of his track shorts pinched into his belly, and he automatically tugged it down. A soft, bulgy roll of translucent blue magic substance poked out below the hem of his shirt and hoodie, extending out into his lap a few inches and resting on his femurs. Oh, yes…and there had also been _this_. 

These happy, culinary-inclined skeletons had been producing a whole lot of yummy things recently…and they were contributing to growing Sans’s swell of magic pudge _quite_ a bit. It didn’t really matter to him, except that his tightening clothes were starting to get annoying. And Papyrus hadn’t seemed to notice yet…or else, he didn’t mind either. It just made him ecstatic to see Sans enjoying his cooking so much…and Sans usually ended every meal with a tummy so stuffed and heavy that he could only roll over and go to sleep. But at least he wasn’t the only one… 

Grinning, Sans rested his plate of pie on the top of his soft middle–it was convenient to have a built-in shelf, now, too!–and eagerly dug in. He was just finishing up the hefty slice and contemplating whether he wanted to wait for them to finish cooking and offer him another one, or get up and get another one himself…when the front door clattered open. 

"whoa, it smells like a bakery in here. nice.” The other Papyrus had finally returned, hands stuffed in the pockets of his orange hoodie and curiously sniffing the air with his absent nose. 

This guy…was taking Sans the longest to get adjusted to. The sight was still a bit jarring… Papyrus, only tired and battered down, addicted to cigarettes and painfully unfunny jokes. It was everything Sans never wanted Papyrus to become–like _him_. Minus the smoking habit, they were exactly alike. He was more Sans’s clone than Pap Sans. And that was extremely unsettling. 

Though they got along alright, and enjoyed exchanging knock-knock jokes and their worst puns, they just couldn’t be as close as the other two. Both of them were just too wary of the other. 

“yyyyup, it’s pie time,” Sans spoke up, secretly hoping he could ask Sans Papyrus (Sanyrus?!) to fetch him another slice as well. “however you slice it, they’re pretty darn good." 

”‘PYRUS!!“ The higher-pitched voice of Pap Sans called from the kitchen. "YAAAAAAAAY, CELEBRATION! COME HAVE SOME PIE–I MADE HONEY LEMON FOR YOU!!" 

"you heard 'im. and couldya get me another custard piece, too? that would be _sweet_." 

Sans Papyrus raised a socket-brow at him. "you can _crust_ in me. comin’ right up." 

When the lanky, lethargic version of Papyrus returned, carrying the two pie slices, he plopped down on the couch right next to Sans, in a similar reclined position. "lookit you,” he spoke up, chuckling to himself in a weirdly deep version of Papyrus’s usual chatter. “you sure you’re a skeleton with a belly like that? more of a skele- _ton_." 

"stop stealing my material.” Sans took his pie, stuffing his next bite into his cheekbones. “and your bro’s pudgy, too." 

"still, he’s like, half your size.” Sans Papyrus took a bite of his yellow-tinted pie as well…and leaned a little closer, over the blubbery blue swell of Sans’s exposed middle. 

“what’s the matter? our bros feeding you a little too well?” And he poked it with one long finger, causing it to slightly wobble and wiggle like a mushy pad of gelatin. 

“pfft.” Sans couldn’t take it anymore. The doppelganger had already breached his personal space–it wouldn’t be wrong. Setting his pie gently on the armrest, he reached over towards the other skeleton’s waist. “looks who’s talking, skelly belly." 

And with that, he yanked up the bottom of that Papyrus’s hoodie. 

"Ah–!” Sans Papyrus cried, twitching back and nearly losing his grip on his plate. His eye-sockets widened all the way, almost– _almost_ –popping into pseudo-eyeball territory. 

And there, at his waist, was a soft little pad of translucent orange magic substance, the rounded little swell of a growing potbelly, previously covered up by the bagginess of the clothing. His khaki shorts were settled on his hip-bones below it, allowing it enough room to poke out…they probably didn’t fit around it anymore. 

“you been eating just as much as me, buddy. i’ll bet _that_ wasn’t there two weeks ago." 

"ugh…” The only somewhat thinner skeleton sighed, giving it up at last. “they’re a lethal combination." 

"ya definitely got that right." 

Sans Papyrus chuckled out loud, releasing his tension, and pushed another big, crumbly, mushy bite of pie into his toothy mouth. "mmff…wonder…which one of us… _munch crnch crnch_ …is gonna… hmmff, mph…gain another 5 pounds first?" 

"is that a challenge?” Sans slurped in another big custard bite. “cuzh…i'can get behin’ dat." 

"THE PENULTIMATE PIE IS NOW IN THE OVEN!" 

"ONE MORE AFTER OUR BREEAAAAK! WHEEEEEEE!!" 

Papyrus excitedly jangled into the parlor, carrying Pap Sans above his head, and the smaller skeleton had his arms held out like an airplane. They paused in front of their brothers, questioningly staring. 

"WOWIE!” Little Pap Sans exclaimed, curling down onto Papyrus’s shoulders. “LOOK! 'PYRUS HAS A BELLY, JUST LIKE ME!" 

"yup, you bet.” The other Papyrus nervously smiled. “it’s 'cuz all this food is just so, so good." 

"i concur,” Sans added, shoveling in another messy bite. 

“ACK!” Papyrus’s eyeballs appeared, smiling so wide, it took up most of his face. “GENUINE COMPLIMENTS!!! DID YOU HEAR THAT, SMALL SANS?!” He yanked Pap Sans from his shoulders, holding him out in front of him like a cat. “WE MAKE THE WORLD’S MOST STELLAR PAIR OF CELEBRITY CHEFS!" 

"MWEH HEH HEH HEH!" 

"NYEH HEH HEH HEH!" 

The pair of lazy, couch-bound skeletons smiled as they chewed, delighted to see their brothers so ecstatic. 

Sans might have never expected this, might have never known this was possible… But it seemed his family–and his waistline–were about to double in size.    


	10. Ruins of Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short fic requested by vinianein
> 
> Underswap Papgore. Feedism. All you need to know.
> 
> I felt like this one was a little awkward, because I packed all of my ideas into one short fic, when they really could have filled 3-4 chapters. And it was my first time writing US!Asgore. I started drowning in fluff. 
> 
> Also, I made use of chubbyskeletons ‘s little “nyeheh”ing US!Pap headcanon!

**Ruins of Comfort**

Warmth. Security. Reassurance. All things Papyrus had never expected to find in this wretched, ever-shifting world. Things he’d thought he might never be able to feel again. 

He’d never imagined the gentle, rumbly voice from beyond the door to belong to the former king of all monsters. He’d never imagined that the king was such a kind-hearted goober who loved baking and silly jokes. He’d never imagined that he’d become so…attached to him. But then again, there were a whole bucket-load of things he would have never foreseen. 

He would have never imagined that the child would leave the Ruins without harming their caretaker…but would then go on to murder his brother. Papyrus knew that Sans died in some timelines…that it was possible…but how… _how_ could _anyone_ destroy that ray of absolute purity and light without being a completely heartless monster? The memories were still gruesomely fresh, even several months later. Watching the soft blue light leaving his brother’s skull, his composition crumbling and wafting away. Frustrated with waiting…waiting for it all to stop and start over again, waiting for the pain to wilt back into a distant, underlying seed of uncertainty. 

He remembered meeting King Asgore for the first time. The circumstances had just been too grim. His wife was dead, the throne was empty, the Underground was devolving into chaos. Papyrus had supported him to the best of his ability, but…but it just hadn’t been enough. In only a week, his spirit had worn down. The people elected Alphys over him… Alphys, who preached war on all humans–who would undoubtedly murder the next one that ever somehow appeared. 

Papyrus could easily recall those horrible nights… But…there was still a glimmer of comfort within them. Lying immobile on the floor, staring into the painted castle ceiling, waiting with empty eyes for time to halt…a shifting beside him…and a warm, fluffy, gentle arm curling across his ribs. 

They’d found it hard to speak at first, face-to-face like this, but just this…lying together…it made a whole world of difference. 

Asgore had elected to return to the Ruins…and Papyrus hadn’t been able to bear the thought of continuing his existence without him. Without Sans, without Undyne…without anything that truly mattered to him. And so, he’d decided to lock himself away in the Ruins along with him. 

He’d definitely tried to convince him otherwise at first. But Papyrus had insisted that he’d be happiest here. And…he’d been completely right about that. 

Asgore was wonderful. From the moment he’d first beheld the warm smile on the boss monster’s fuzzy muzzle, the fluff of his dandelion-colored hair and beard, he’d felt an inexplicable calming sensation worming its way into his soul.  They’d joked about doors and entrances and faces and it was so amazing, hearing his rumbly, soft, deep voice up close… The same voice Papyrus would listen to, skull pressed to the door and trying not to drift into peaceful slumber. His rolling, heartful laughter was the most amazing sound he’d ever heard, and he just lived for it. 

It gave him something to focus on, at least…supporting this pure-hearted, gentle giant of a goat-man… For, he had his own insecurities and anxieties. So much regret and sorrow and loneliness…Papyrus liked to think he could help alleviate it, at least temporarily. Together, they applied soothing balms to their deep-set emotional unease. And it fit so perfectly. 

Asgore could fully envelop Papyrus’s long body in his fluffy fur, and the sensation of his warmth and closeness folding around his curled-in body was enough to make the cold emptiness inside him recede, even if it was only for the moment. Usually, Papyrus wasn’t one to show physical affection…he’d never hugged anyone, except for Sans… But he found himself yearning for the boss monster’s embrace, wrapping his long, bony arms over his broad shoulders, around his neck…. clinging to his long, royal purple robe.  Sometimes, Asgore would even carry him, and they’d chuckle about it, laughing and teasing each other. 

Oftentimes, Papyrus couldn’t understand why such an incredible monster would want him around. He was a bag of stupid jokes and provided some minimal entertainment, but that was all he was good for. And it wasn’t until they began living together that he truly realized… 

Those moments when Asgore’s broad, fluffy face lit up in satisfaction and joy…the tiny puff of his tail wagging, a pink tint pushing onto his cheeks… Always when he’d cheered him up, when he brought him clean sheets, when he cleared his plate of his cooking at dinnertime. Asgore…loved taking care of people…and taking care of him especially. A protective, nurturing instinct dwelt in his heart, and he was infinitely pleased with providing for the punny skeleton. Especially with his cooking. 

No bones about it, Asgore was a phenomenal cook. Though resources were somewhat limited in the Ruins, it didn’t stop him from baking up a whole range of sumptuous pies and cookies and biscuits and pancakes…from laying out practical feasts at night for dinner, all sweet and crunchy salads and rice bowls and stir fry and organic barbecue meats, as well as plenty of chocolate ice cream for dessert. Baskets of breads, bowls of fruits, pots of noodles…there was nothing he couldn’t cook up and prepare with ease and delight. 

And since it brought him such happiness, Papyrus always made sure to eat as much of everything he provided as he could. Not that he had to force himself…everything Asgore made was strikingly delicious–better than Muffet’s sweets, better than his own patented corndogs, better than anything else he’d ever tasted. The magic it gave him was so warm and soothing and gentle and caring–just like the soul of the one who prepared it for him. 

It was odd…Papyrus had never been a big eater…but he couldn’t help loading up on seconds and thirds whenever Asgore cooked. Each plate was like…placing his loving care inside of him. The feeling was strange, but somehow very soothing…being so _full_ , more than just “not hungry”. More often than not, Papyrus found himself going to bed with a gurgly distention at his middle–a strain on his magical storage membrane, happily bubbling with an abundance of magic substance. It helped him sleep peacefully, taking his mind off other distressing subjects, making him feel heavy and anchored and _safe_. And from the tiny thrilling trembles in Asgore’s body as he hugged him goodnight, he knew he felt that way too. 

Sometimes, one large, gentle paw fitted over his tiny, magic-stuffed belly, briefly feeling its warmth, and pulling away with a little pat. Asgore mumbled his gratitude for how much Papyrus had enjoyed tonight’s meal, and Papyrus would just give him a wink and joke about getting fat and being nothing but bones. Little did he know…it wouldn’t just be a joke for long. 

Life passed quickly in the quiet of the Ruins, and before either of them knew it, a whole month had gone by…and then two months. And Papyrus…was changing. 

He could definitely see it when he got dressed, he could feel it in the shower…the gel-like magic cushioning in his abdominal cavity had gotten thicker, wider, more wobbly and plush. An excess of magical manifestation to carry around. 

Of course, he’d known this was possible–Sans had always had a slight pot belly, after all–but…if felt so out-of-place on _him_. He was the “tall, skinny one”, while his brother had always been the “short, pudgy one”. It looked awkward with his long limbs, didn’t it? It was just too gooey to be attractive, too mismatched to be cute… Would Asgore think so? And why was he worried if Asgore liked the way he looked? 

And so, as usual, Papyrus decided his best course of action was to make a joke out of it. 

“yo, gorey…” He spoke up that evening, when they met in the hall. “try not to be so sweet at dinner tonight–look what you’re doin’ to me.” And though a tiny amber glow dabbed at his thin cheekbones, below his eye-sockets, he lifted his hoodie and the tank top underneath, displaying the soft, transparent, puffy bit of magical pudge underneath. A hearty, nervous laugh quivered out of him, and he gave it a slap, causing it to bounce just a little bit. 

“Oh…?” Asgore’s reaction was…rather unusual. His kind, deep blue eyes widened at the edges…and the smile amidst his beard was tugging insistently at the corners of his mouth. “Wahaha, it’s a good look for you, Papyrus! Good to see some meat on your bones!" 

"you could say i was fortunate to _meat_ you." 

"Ohohoho, indeed! It was difficult with such high _steaks_." 

"ahhh, still…” Papyrus looked away, confused and a little overwhelmed. “i love getting together to chew the _fat_ …" He squeezed at his sides a little, filling the spaces between his phalanges with smushy jelly flesh. "eheh…heheheheh…" 

And then…before he’d even realized it, he could feel the tickling softness of Asgore’s bead and fur…nuzzling over the top of his skull. Papyrus could only freeze in place, his hands still pressed into his pudge. 

"You’re not fat, Papyrus. You’re well-fed… I am glad…to provide for you." 

"uh…” It always took him by surprise…he wasn’t used to anyone else being taller than him, even after all this time. “it really…doesn’t look weird?" 

"No!” His answer was immediate and almost desperate. “…Um, that is… It looks wonderful.” He pulled back, grasping a paw at his arm and sort of scratching at it. His face turned away, long, floppy ears shifting over his broad shoulders. It was kind of adorable to see him so…awkward like this all of a sudden. Monsters usually never acted this way unless… Well, unless… 

Papyrus felt the mild heat at his cheekbones dial up another notch. No, that couldn’t be true.  

“eheheheh…don’t tell me…you’re _into_ this, gorey?” Teasingly, he released his middle and moved closer, purposely pushing it out and belly-bumping Asgore’s side. Laughter shivered out of him…this was just a little friendly messing around, right? Right…? 

Asgore covered his face in his fuzzy paws, his long, white robe sleeves shifting. “O-Oh…Oh, dear……." 

Papyrus blinked slow, incredulous socket-lids. He _did_ …? 

"uh, hey…” Concernedly, he reached over, cupping his bony hand around the embarrassed boss monster’s elbow. “it’s, um…fine, though. anything…i don’t mind…um, whatever…” He really wasn’t good at expressing his feelings. 

“Papyrus…” Asgore’s voice was so soft and pleasant…it always felt good, deep in his bones, when he said his name. 

Forcibly, he slid his paws back away from his face, clutching them at his chest, though they still trembled a little…and he smiled, painfully. “I love it. I adore the way you look now, sincerely. Your…extra softness. I…I’ve been feeding you up ever since you came here, and…I’m sorry, I’m sorry if it bothers you. You never seemed to mind how much I made, though… You always enjoyed it, and…" 

"heh…eheh…heheheheheheh…n-YEHEHEHEH!” Papyrus couldn’t hold back his bursting laughter. It felt as if…an enormous weight had floated out of one piece of his soul, leaving him lightheaded and buoyant. This was too good…this was just too good. He hadn’t felt this way since…Sans had still been alive. This sweet goat monster just filled in every empty piece of his heart…in more than one way. He loved him. 

“oh, gorey…oh, gosh… if you like me fat, i’m _all_ for that. that’s precious. you’re right–i love eating your food. hoo, boy…" 

"Really?" 

"Yeah! for sure!" 

"Oh, dear.” Asgore was still blushing like mad, but the smile that spread across his face was so brilliant, it almost made Papyrus’s thin kneecaps collapse. 

One thick arm crept downward, hesitating just before the skeleton’s jelly belly. “Er, may I…?" 

"yup! go for it!" 

And that large, padded paw was slightly pressing and squishing into the orange plushness of Papyrus’s tummy. 

He gave off an inadvertent squeaky noise that was rather uncharacteristic of him…but in the moment, he just didn’t care…it felt so good. The soft swell felt smaller in Asgore’s thick fingers…but he found himself imagining it growing larger…filling in more of his palm…and the image was strangely exciting. If he wanted him fatter, he wanted to be fatter too! 

Asgore gazed down at the puffy little pillow of his handiwork with proud, desirous, hooded eyes and began to massage, slightly kneading and rolling little swells of abundant magic in his fingers. And suddenly, he shifted closer, nuzzling his snout over Papyrus’s skull once more. 

Papyrus happily sank into his embrace, though Asgore continued to fondle his chubby little belly. Together…they just exuded warmth and comfort and security…and love. Everything was accepted, embraced, and cared for… Maybe one day–not today, but one day–Papyrus could even trust him with everything. Until he forgot it. Until it all went back to nothing. But while it _was_ something…why not make it the most something it could be? 

Burying his face in Asgore’s soft, strong shoulder, Papyrus quietly mumbled. ”…love ya.“ 

And Asgore tightened his hug, planting a brief kiss to his forehead, as if responding "love you too”. 

It was several minutes before they separated, and mostly because Asgore needed to get dinner started. 

Though he still blushed at being so open about it, he gave an affectionate pat to the wobbly, growing little skelly belly and grinned. “We must…get this cute belly filled, after all." 

"eheheheh, yup–it’s gettin’ a little eager for feeding time again." 

"I’m quite eager now, too! Ohohoho!" 

Papyrus followed his beloved friend to the kitchen…his probably-more-than-friend. And they laughed and joked and continued teasing each other about the pudginess, though Papyrus had slid his clothes back over it. 

"i’m sure you’ve put on a little, too, with all the sweets you’ve been baking,” Papyrus teased, to which Asgore blushed even redder. But more of his fluffy goat-man would definitely be appreciated, if it were true… 

For the first time in a while…Papyrus truly looked forward to tomorrow. He was excited, optimistic about where these wonderful new discoveries would take them. 

Never, would he have imagined this… Love…Pure, caring, mutual love… It would build him up once again… And, he supposed, it would build him outwards as well.


	11. Going DoNUTS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for queenofdragons6 – solo original Sans stuffing, with a heavy focus on belly size and rubbing. 
> 
> Sans stumbles upon a nearly limitless supply of donuts. What's a chubby, hungry skelly to do?
> 
> I was kinda off with the size descriptions, buuuut I tried. And I apologize to everyone who isn’t a backwards American like me, because my frame of reference is the Imperial system, and everything is measured in inches here.

**Going DoNUTS**

_Okie-dokie…now just where have I ended up this time…?_  

The small, pudgy skeleton carefully got back up on his stubby bone-legs, briefly rubbing at his tailbone. Well, the ground was certainly hard enough…some type of cold concrete. Man, it had been a long time since one of his “shortcuts” had gone awry. He should really start concentrating a bit more…he was lapsing, and that never happened with such an easy jump. 

Sans gave a sigh and dusted off the back of his track shorts. Of course, he’d had to land on his butt, too. Well…at least no one seemed to be around in this building. _Wonder what went wrong…_ It had been a simple enough teleportation–from his hot dog stand in Hotland back to his room in Snowdin. Totally not a problem. But he’d been side-tracked somehow and ended up…here. 

Naturally curious, Sans set about examining his surroundings. He was definitely inside a building…and from the dim, graying darkness, it seemed to be empty. A sliding step forward on his pink slippers revealed one long row of metallic shelves stocked with white boxes. The scant amount of light bounced off the white packaging, making them visible. It was…some sort of storeroom or warehouse. From the slight pricking at the edges of his bones, he could tell that he was somehow still in Hotland… 

_Rrrrgggrrr-grrm…_  

_Aw, jeez. Now I know what happened…_ Sans’s bony, stubby fingers pressed to the doughy puff of magic-created flesh at his middle. 

Unlike his beanpole of a brother, Sans enjoyed an excess cushioning about his body–he’d created a semi-transparent glob-sack of pale blue magic substance attached to his abdominal cavity–an effective storage spot and an imitation belly. It was no longer just stretched onto him, though…it was extra squishy and plush, curving outwards from him body, forming a droopy teardrop shape about two inches out from his rib-cage….and then almost two feet wide, the bottom edge forming little puffy rolls above his elastic waistband. Privately, he loved this construct…it had probably been the best idea he’d ever had. But right now… 

A pang came from deep inside, a picky little gnaw at the magical interior. With one curious, bony finger, he pressed the softness inward about an inch. Well…now he definitely knew what had gone wrong. Sans was hungry…very hungry, in fact. He’d forgotten lunch–slept right through it–and now it was approaching dinnertime. His approximation of a stomach could still rumble at him when it began to run critically low on the magical substance, and it was definitely aching with emptiness right now. Thus, that could only mean one thing… 

He was so hungry that his body had gotten distracted in the middle of his time/space shift…instead of taking him to his intended destination, it had just dropped him off at the nearest source of food instead. Every bit of his magic was connected, after all. 

_Reminder to self once again–never teleport on an empty stomach._  

But that still begged the question–just where _was_ he? Apparently, there was food nearby, but _why_ and _where_? 

Experimentally, Sans padded over to one of the lowest shelves and reached in to open its closest box. Immediately, the heavy, sticky sweet aroma made his kneecaps weak. Donuts. A box of four wrapped-up donuts. Little puff rings of crumbly goodness. Cracking open the box next to it revealed another four donuts, and Sans felt his magic pulse ravenously from within him. 

_Are these_ all _donuts?! All these boxes?!_ There shelves upon shelves of them….enough to feed half the Underground. Who had stored all of these here? Muffet? For what purpose? 

A nagging prickle of a thought tapped at the base of Sans’s skull, trying to worm its way through his mind. No, no, that was terrible! How could he even think that?! Rattling his joints, he forced himself to look away and think of something–anything–else. _Should really, really try to teleport home again…but, it’s no use. I’ll probably just get pulled to some other random location bearing sustenance._ His magic had its own mind and its own priorities. 

With a heavy sigh that almost whistled through his ribs, Sans whirled around on the toe of his slipper. It was already too late. His instinct, his _gut_ had already decided. _I’m just going to eat a few of them. Just to curb the hunger and allow me to focus. Yeah, it’s kinda sneaky and dishonest, but…I’ll never get outta here otherwise._  

As much as he tried to convince himself to feel ashamed and upset about this, a grin naturally spread wider across Sans’s skull, splotches of warm, flaring magic spreading over his round cheekbones. Eager phalanges curved around the first donut box he’d opened, yanking it from its slot, and he sat himself down, pulling out a fat, sprinkled, strawberry-iced donut. 

With a blank mind utterly consumed by hunger, he shoved it between his teeth and into his mouth. The relief that came from swallowing its magic contents was almost orgasmic. In no time at all, Sans had chomped the whole thing down, plucking out the next donut–chocolate icing and crumbles–and stuffing it into him with alarming speed. Each physical manifestation of converted, fluffy pastry bite was like a tiny parcel of soothing affection. _SO good…_  

Swiftly scraping the remaining chocolate ooze from his phalanges, Sans dug into the box again, emerging with a thick, squishy jelly donut in one hand, and a second chocolate-on-chocolate with sprinkles in the other. 

_Huh. These can’t be Muffet’s_ , he thought, though most of his consciousness was absorbed in his pleasurable eating. _She doesn’t make jelly donuts. And these taste a bit…different._ It wasn’t that Muffet’s were _bad_ , really, but these…they felt different in his mouth, felt different as they transferred into magic and trickled down inside him. There was no way to pinpoint exactly what that difference was, but…all he knew was that he needed _more_. 

The chocolate gone, Sans moved onto the jelly, mumbling an audible “ _mmmmmmmm_ ” as its juices squeezed out between his teeth, filling his jaw. Oh, gosh, it was heavenly. Sticky and sweet, grape and sugar, cool and crisp. Though he couldn’t hear it himself, his magical belly made a quiet glurping noise, thankful for being fed now. It was satisfied, no longer pecking at him. But Sans himself definitely wasn’t done yet. 

A rock of disappointment dropped in his heart when he’d finally finished, and he just sat there, the curve of his cheekbones streaked with stray jelly, wishing the empty box would refill itself. He’d said he’d only eat one, but… He’d promised himself, but… Sans’s mouth, and his whole body, it seemed, _yearned_ and _ached_ for more of those donuts. The desire was almost crushing him in its intensity. 

_Ooohhh… Surely…surely if they wouldn’t notice one box missing, they won’t notice two……._ And as soon as he’d given himself permission to have that thought, he was sliding himself along the hard floor, next to the shelf, and pulling down another donut box. Something about them…was intoxicating. Addicting. He had to have them. 

Each one disappeared in four big, savoring bites…strawberry icing, vanilla and orange cream, coffee and chocolate chunk, spicy pumpkin… Such flavorful mouthfuls of soft, tumbling substance, ensnaring his senses, delighting his magical essence. Yeah, Sans really could be a glutton sometimes, he’d admit, but it felt so _wondrous_. It was something he reveled in, no matter when or where. 

A tiny, buzzy little tickle shivered through his belly, and he automatically pressed a hand down on it, though he still kept chewing his next hearty bite of pumpkin donut. _Mmmmm…_ With gentle strokes, he rubbed over the top of his tummy, nearest his rib-cage. It was enjoying the influx of magic–he could tell by the way it tingled and poked lightly at his fingers. So good. Mostly, the shape felt the same, except that it had lost some of its squishiness. Bundles of jelly-like magic substance were filling it up now, like a pot gradually filling with water. But Sans knew from experience–this was only the very beginning. 

_Ah, screw it_ , his mind told him. _I’ll pay the reparations later._ And he’d already grabbed a third box. 

After two more donuts–mint chocolate and coconut dusted–time and perception began to melt into one mushy, hazy blob of never-ending bliss. Sans chuckled and gulped and chewed, happy as a clam, and heedless of anything else besides the yummy, weighty, soft, sometimes crunchy, sometimes gooey feel of the donuts entering into his mouth, squishing into his pseudo-stomach. Without even thinking or feeling, his arms automatically reached for the next box, and the next… 

After box number four, the upper portion of Sans’s tummy had pushed out, forming a more complete globe shape. Well and truly round, the surface inflating like a little balloon. Sans continually massaged the area, feeling its slow, steady expansion, as his other hand fed him more and more. Why were these donuts _so delicious_?! He couldn’t stop–there was no way he could stop. 

Another box of four was cleared, leaving his little donut-filled ball of a belly one half an inch wider all around, beginning to press at his undershirt. Deciding that he’d be here for quite a while, still, Sans slipped his hoodie off, bunching it underneath him for support…and reached up for his sixth box with an eager trembling in his bony arms. Twnety donuts…..it didn’t really feel like he’d eaten that much. Sure, the heaviness in his filling tummy was making him feel full now, but… 

Cupping one hand down around the bulging right side, Sans gave it a soothing, affectionate caress. _You’re really lovin’ this, aren’t ya? All this magic for you, after I ignored you for so long… You greedy little thing, you…eheheheh, yeah, that’s me._ A wet little gurgle emanated from the contented, full magic sack, perhaps reacting to his own inner joy. Sans left it with a fond pat to its rounding front, and continued forth. 

Another fluffy donut…one long, puffy, creamy long john, a thick raspberry jelly-filled, coated in sticky sweetness… With each treat, Sans’s tummy nudged outwards by another smidgeon. Assimilating the warm, nourishing magic into the percolating mass nestling in his middle. 

Two dozen donuts down, and Sans’s shorts were feeling tightly stretched around his bloated mass. From when he’d started, that magical belly of his was almost another whole inch wider all around and sticking outwards much, much firmer. He’d gone from a small, mushy melon in a stocking to an overinflated basketball. 

“Ahhhhh-hhhhh….ohhhh, eh- _hrp_!” With a bashful, inundated grin, Sans rocked backward, rolling both hands over the pleasant roundness, up and down over each tightly curved side. The warm friction of his bones and the shifting fabric of his shirt felt oh so nice against the taut gel membrane of that very full tummy. 

“ _Hic_! _h-urp_! _Urrrap_! Hahhh… _hlp_!” The ministrations and repeated movements of his slow rubbing pressed out small hiccups and belches as the magic packed in there shifted. Sans happily, hazily thought of it as making some more room. 

At the end of one long caress over the entire length of the bulged-out curve, he hooked his thumb at the waistband of his pants and pushed it downward with all his might. The lower curve of his tummy appeared, bare blue and practically sparkling with overabundance. Unobstructed, it looked more like a practical sphere more than ever…a nice, warm, satisfied sphere, merrily churning away at its delicious contents. 

But… This was just a break. This was just a short rest. Despite the mounting heaviness and drowsiness beginning to weigh him down, Sans still _craved_ those donuts. The tickling gurgles of the donut magic already in his tummy seemed to urge him on. As if saying, “we want even more!” _Yes…_ With drowsy, hooded eye-sockets, Sans privately smiled, lavishing in his own gluttony, and teasingly walked his fingers down the bulging curve. He could barely see his own kneecaps. _You ready for more there, buddy? Here comes moooooore… Yeah, I know you are…_ “Eheheh…" 

Hefting himself upright again, Sans tried to reach the shelf…but he’d already cleared the lowest shelf closest to him. One short tug of his arm told him he definitely wouldn’t be able to reach the next-highest…and he didn’t feel like getting up on his feet. He probably still _could_ stand up, but…why would he want to? 

With a little flicker of his left eye-socket, a blue aura surrounded several boxes from the topmost shelf…and they gently moved, floating downwards towards him. Why not use some of this immense magic to get himself some more? It was only natural. Laughing with enjoyment, Sans reached up to catch the boxes of donuts as they fell into his arms. One, two, three, four… Just for fun, he stacked them up in a tower. 

Lustful eyes looked over their blank, white cardboard surfaces…and scanned across the shelf. There were just so many…so, so many. It was a never-ending donut wonderland. Oh, how he loved this so much… 

Sans was now able to use to his bulged tummy as a small shelf, and he set the first opened box from the tower on it, lowering his face into it and munching straight in. This one was entirely full of long johns, and it was easy to bite them and lift them and suck them right down, despite their size. 

” _HLLP_!“ Sans let out a massive hiccup-belch as soon as the final one plopped into him, tummy pushing out just a tiny bit more, reaching just beyond the basketball size. With an appreciative little pat, he reached over for the next box. 

Standard, honey, powdered sugar, and french cruellers… Humming and mumbling and burping, Sans ate and ate and ate… Until he turned up with another empty box, crumbs sticking to the insides. Time for the next. 

Each donut box added another half-inch to his burgeoning belly…. He spread his legs further apart, allowing the bottom to rest on the floor, while it steadily, slowly expanded, and his shirt steadily crept upwards, exposing more and more of the overblown balloon, stretching to its fullest and swirling with many magnificent hues of blue. Another little outward nudge… 

All too soon, Sans’s tummy had entered beach-ball territory, the round expansion causing him to lean back a little more. Sticking out from his pelvis a whole twelve inches, he could now easily wrap his arms around it…which he did, while lazily working his way through the final tower box. 

Tiredly chewing sticky teeth through another jelly donut, Sans rested his arm over his own round expanse, giving it a tender stroke. Though it was embarrassing to admit, he kind of…loved seeing it this way. So big and glutted with magic, so round and overripe and ready to pop. 40 scrumptious pastries… 

Sans was a bit winded from the effort of stuffing himself, so as he slurped in the last couple of sugary sweet morsels, he just huffed and petted the huge, blue glowing ball in soothing circles. By now, it had definitely started feeling far too full. Pain was edging on its borders as it struggled to made more space, and it felt very _tight_ , the surface firm with hardly any give. 

"Hhh… _urp_ …ufff… Hff…” _Ohhhh, that’s the stuff._  

With one final, desperate push, Sans swallowed the last bite, and fully reclined on his back. His shirt slid all the way down to his ribs, exposing the whole of the tight, multi-hued blue beach ball, overinflated again. The rest of his body was completely obscured from his view, and it made him quietly chuckle. _You wanted food? Well, ya got food, bud._  

Sans slid his bony hands along the bulges closest to the floor on his sides, gently holding the mass upwards a bit. “ _Rrp_ , man…maybe overdid it…” The globe of taut tummy wobbled a tiny bit, unsteadily, and he gently let it rest again, giving the top an apologetic caress. Ohhhh, he was stuffed. He was stuffed to the brim. 

And yet… Before he truly realized it, Sans’s tired eye was lighting up again… 

_Blmpbumpbumpbmpbmp!_  

Suddenly, before his glazed-over mind could process anything, his magic tried to move one of the topmost boxes again…but it slipped. That box bumped into another box, which fell into another box, until… 

“Hhh…ahhhhhhhh…” What Sans _could_ process, however, was that donuts were now raining from the sky. 

Boxes tumbled forward, spinning and flipping and releasing their sweet contents, which spun and danced and plopped to ground…and all over Sans. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go, catching a donut hole right inside, as another donut ring landed at his chin, smearing his collarbone with strawberry icing. They fell all around him and on top of him, one soft powdery chocolate one even landing at the very apex of his donut-stuffed tummy, king of the mountain. And he gulped the donut hole down, moaning in pained ecstasy. 

_Ohhhhhhh God…_ Lethargically, indulgently, Sans began to eat once more… 

There was no more space in him…there shouldn’t be anymore space in there…but he couldn’t help pushing delicious bites to his face, sweeping the wonderful squishy pastries close, as they piled up around him. 

He could only moan, sickeningly as he pressed them past his metaphorical throat, huffing and groaning as each bite entered his overtaxed tummy. But it was oh so amazing. If this wasn’t the most luxurious thing… covered in sweets, struggling bit by bit to consume them, even after he’d eaten so, so many of them already… Still slowly, slowly eating, despite his overstuffed state. 

Gradually, it gently rose another half-inch, bordering on yoga ball status… Several of the donuts around him had been cleaned away, packed away with so many of the others. Sans’s eye-sockets slid closed. He slowly, slowly chewed… One hand slowly, exhaustedly brushed over the warm, taut surface at the top of his balloon belly. He was a mess, covered in sticky jam and syrup and sprinkles and icing, and crumbles and nuts… Stuffed and overstuffed… 

“ _ic_ …” Sans felt the drag of sleep overtaking him, his body and mind slipping into the cozy, heavy, blank unconscious… When a loud bang suddenly shot through the air, blinking his sockets open and letting in a blast of light. 

“Ahaha! Here it is!” A high voice boomed out, and though his vision was still hazy and tinged with over-saturated bliss, Sans turned his skull towards the noise in curiosity. 

Small black shapes were skittering across the floor, spreading out in every direction. And a moment later, two rose-pink boots stepped up close to him. 

“ _Oh_ my… Well…seems someone else has already started doing our work for us." 

” _Ic_! Uh…huh?“ Sans could barely move. It took all of his energy to hug his arms up around his bulbous tummy, protecting it. The tips of his phalanges just barely met. 

It took a moment for him to recognize that voice…but he knew it. He knew it quite well. "M-Muh…hfff… _ip_!” Couldn’t even get her name out. 

Nevertheless, the amused, blinking, myriad eyes of Muffet the spider-girl were soon looking down at him, most of her arms on her hips. “Uhu. While normally, I’d chide you for being such a greedy, inconsiderate little thing, these aren’t my pastries to worry about." 

Just as he’d thought. But then, whose _were_ they? 

"W- _lp_ -w-whu?” In a weak attempt at sitting up, Sans only rolled slightly to the side. He wanted to know, but he still felt on the verge of fainting, and most of him just wanted to pass out. 

“Oh, did you not even know what products you were scarfing down? Tsk. Anyway…" 

She stood up and slightly waved with two arms, and Sans could only barely see her. "I’d received word that someone else was mass-producing and stockpiling donuts…no doubt to capitalize on _my_ business and take away _my_ customers. Until now, we’d been unable to locate the production facility, but here is the storage room, so it must be nearby. I’m still unsure of who’s behind this, but…I do have my suspicions…" 

"Mm…” There was more Sans wanted to ask, more he wanted to talk to her about, but he was really starting to black out, splotches creeping in and eating away at his vision. God, he’d really overdone it to the extreme. He’d have to remember not to do this again. 

“What’s more, I’ve heard tell that their products have some sort of _addictive_ ingredient–a chemical to make their customers desperately crave more. And from your current condition, I would assume that to be true. Though you’ve always been a terrible glutton, Sans, I know. Heehee!" 

Sans’s hands were slowly, gently sliding back down the firm, smooth mound of his very warm, very stuffed tummy. Despite the squeezing little pains it gave him, and the fact that he couldn’t move…it felt fantastic. To be so heavy, weighed down by his own overindulgence… Yeah, he definitely was a glutton, no use denying it. _Worth it…_  

Muffet’s face bent down closer once more, this time giggling behind a spidery hand. "Though I suppose I must thank you for your inadvertent help in destroying this place. There was a good use for that stomach of yours, after all. Don’t worry, dearie, we’ll roll you out of here with us when we’re done. Uhuhuhuhu!" 

_Mm…roll…_ Sans gave a tiny, wry grin and lovingly stroked over the bulge that pushed out from under his ribs one more time. So grateful for how long it had held out, how much it had been able to take…how nice it had made him feel. A part of him wondered just how Muffet planned on moving him, but as it turned out, he’d never get a chance to see. 

His mind finally chose that moment to give out, closing his senses…and putting a cozy, sleepy bookend on his most incredible pastry binge to date.


	12. The Baby Bump Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for under-the-bed-tales – Soriel skelepreg with trans lady Sans. And lots of fluff!!! Oh, and I also threw in a tiny bit of weight gain. It’s only natural, right?
> 
> This is the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written for this pairing, and probably ever will write. It was a lot of fun, though!

**The Baby Bump Book**

“Saaaaaaaaaaans! Saaaans, dear! They’re all done! Come take a look!!" 

"Ergh…couldn’t you bring ‘em in here? Pleeeeeease?" 

"Ahahaha.” The tall, fluffy white form of Toriel, gentle former monster queen and loving partner, entered the cozy little room, playfully hiding something behind her back. Her foot-paws padded across the carpet to the side of the skeleton monster, currently reclining in a rocking chair. 

“Alright, alright, my lazybones…” Bending down, she pressed her muzzle to the top of Sans’s skull–a little kiss filled with love. “You never change." 

"Hey, I have a legitimate excuse for not getting up now–you bet I’m going to use it." 

"Oh, of course. I should have known." 

It was incredible to think of how much _had_ changed, however…and what wonderful, miraculous changes. 

Since their release from the Underground, Sans and Toriel had always been together. Slowly learning everything about each other…and loving each and every piece. They could truly be _themselves_ around each other. Their laugher and kidding around had developed into a deep, spiritual connection…they shared every part of themselves, and cherished their pure, loving bond. Sans was finally herself here, in Toriel’s sweet glow. Free to express the deepest parts of her mind and heart, the ones she’d kept hidden for so long, covered up with lame jokes. And Toriel could show her own hidden pieces…the loneliness, the vulnerability, the desperation…without any fear. Sans loved her…and she loved her, too. More than anything.  

Naturally, they’d moved in together, Toriel securing a small cottage not too far from her school house. Yes, it had taken Papyrus a little while to adjust to having a sister, but…he was still sad to see Sans leave. Even now, he came to visit at least once a week, and lately, always with some type of gift. Frisk often visited after school, as well…they’d become just another family to the small human child, though they now lived with Papyrus and Asgore. But there was one particular development even more amazing and miraculous…the biggest and most incredible change of them all… 

"Here we arrrrrre!” Toriel practically squeaked, sweeping her arms from behind her back and revealing two tiny pieces of cloth pinched in her fuzzy, clawed fingers. Socks. Teeny tiny knitted socks. They were blue, with tiny pink hearts on the bottom, a design they’d both decided on a while back.  

Sans’s permanent grin seemed to widen a little more…and a warm, joyful glow of blue magic flickered to her cheekbones. “Awwwwwww, Tori… You really know how to sock it to me with the cuteness here."  

"Eeheeeee! Oh, Sans, I’m just getting my toes wet."  

And with that…she placed the socks gently and reverantly atop the round, beach-ball bulge of Sans’s belly.  

"I’m sure they’ll love 'em,” Sans whispered, pushing her voice into a higher register. Though Toriel always insisted she never had to pitch her voice up to be “ladylike”, sometimes, she just liked to, because she liked the sound of it.  

Their baby…their child…their precious little life…was growing inside of Sans’s protective magic belly, almost ready to enter the world now.  At five months and one week, Sans’s pregnancy was nearly full term for a skeleton monster. Just a few more weeks…in just a few short weeks, they were going to be parents to a beautiful child, born from the melding and sharing of their soul power, their very essences.  

Despite frequent checkups with Dr. Alphys, no one really knew exactly how the baby would turn out–would it be a skeleton or a boss monster? Would it be a sort of hybrid? All the two lovebirds knew was that they loved it with all their hearts…and they couldn’t wait to meet their new little sweetheart and hold them in their arms.  

By now, Sans was so large, she couldn’t walk around very easily…though that was just fine with her. Most days, she lazed about in this padded rocking chair, wearing her maternity nightgown and watching TV, reading, and dozing. Her girth took up the whole space between its armrests. In addition to the growth of pregnancy, she’d happened to put on a bit more weight as well–no doubt a result of Toriel’s excellent and frequent meals. But it all made her look so…comfy…such a healthful glow of flourishing comfort.  

With a soft giggle in her throat, Sans poked her index fingers into the tiny socks…and began to walk them across the curve of her belly. Toriel couldn’t miss this opportunity–quick as a flash, she reached into her mom jeans and yanked out a camera, snapping a photo just as Sans reached up to her chest.  

“Aah!” Sans frantically blushed, arms immediately flying up to cover her face and nearly losing her grip on the socks. “T-Tori! What did I tell you about taking pictures unannounced?"  

"Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She was immediately at her beloved skeleton’s side, leaning over her and wrapping her in a soft hug. “You just looked so beautiful, I couldn’t help it…I know you would’ve been too embarrassed if I’d just asked, too. Once I print it out, if you really don’t like it, we don’t have to keep it, okay?"  

"Eheh…okay…” Sans’s voice was very quiet, but…accepting…though she was still blushing a deep blue.  

Toriel wrapped her arms around her skull, pulling her close to her chest in a comforting embrace…and eventually she calmed down enough, tucking the socks away in the drawer of her nightstand, and cupping gentle phalanges over Toriel’s elbows. Her cheekbones nuzzled lightly at Toriel’s breasts.  

“H-How’s the scrapbook coming along, anyway?"  

"Oh! Would you like to see?!” Excitedly, Toriel leaped away, immediately running to a small bookshelf in the corner. “I added a lot of new things yesterday! I think you’ll like it!” Her jittery hand slid out a wide book covered in tiny stickers of bottles, rattles, rubber duckies, and letter blocks. The very center was blank–waiting for the name they would give their child. They had a few in mind, of course, but they’d decided to wait until the day of the birth to firmly settle on it.  

“I kinda…want to see the whole thing again, anyway.” Sans gave a flushing smile and tried to sit herself up a little more, shifting the rocking chair forward. On the way back, Toriel scooted a footstool up closer, allowing Sans to put her feet up on it with a quiet sigh of relief. Her bony feet were so tiny compared to the size of her body now–it was no wonder it was so difficult to walk.  

With a glowing smile of her own, Toriel stepped behind Sans and leaned over her, holding the book open between her embracing arms and allowing her to look down and see. The scrapbook had been Toriel’s idea at first–Sans had agreed to keeping a “baby book” with the baby’s first milestones and pictures throughout the first year, but…Toriel had wanted to keep a little memoir of the _pregnancy_ as well. Despite everything, Sans was still embarrassed of her condition sometimes…she definitely didn’t like being in the spotlight like this. And so, Toriel had made it her mission to show her how wonderful and beautiful it was…through a myriad of cute photos. The scrapbook so far was…embarrassing and sometimes difficult for Sans to look at, but…a part of her loved it. 

The very first page contained what seemed to be a normal photo of Sans and Toriel cuddling and hugging tightly to each other…except for the fact that they were sitting on an examination bench in Alphys’s doctor’s office. Stickers of hearts and tiny fireworks surrounded it, along with a sparkly “Congratulations!"  

"I couldn’t stop you from just jumping up there and squeezing the life out of me,” Sans chuckled. “I like how you can even see a tiny bit of Alphys’s tail there, as she’s freaking out."  

"It’s a good thing your brother had a steady hand to take this."  

"Yeah, especially since you just shoved it at him out of nowhere."  

"Heehee, it’s so cute, though!" 

Though they’d suspected it for a few days prior, this had been the moment they’d discovered for sure that Sans was pregnant. It had been such a wonderful, joyful moment…if a bit embarrassing for Sans. Deep blue magic flush covered the front of her skull in the image, though her grin was spread wide and ecstatic against Toriel’s snuggling muzzle.  

Back in the present, they shared a quick imitation nuzzle before Toriel turned the page. 

Immediately, Sans couldn’t help smiling at the next one. "Eheh. I can’t wait to use that, you know. Don’t be surprised if that’s the first thing I put on 'em."  

"I wouldn’t expect any less."  

Diagonally across the page, accompanied by stickers of hamburgers and shopping bags, were three photos: Toriel laughing, her own happy warmth glowing through her cheek fur… Sans doubled over a metal clothing rack at a mostly-empty mall store, snickering uncontrollably…and the final one, which showed Sans eagerly holding up a tiny baby onesie. It was yellow, with a certain texture…and red printed splotches, like splats of ketchup. Across the chest were the words "small fry”.  

That day, neither of them had purposely intended to shop for baby clothes…but Sans had happened upon that specific onesie and they’d _had_ to buy it. Even now, most of their baby clothes collection consisted of similarly punny phrased outfits. A large strawberry and the word “sweetheart”, a caterpillar pattern and “snuggle bug”, exc. Even so, the very first one was special…a milestone, the first piece of clothing they’d ever purchased for their child…and since this was Sans’s first ever child, it meant even more to her.  

Toriel smiled and turned the page. “I added a bit more sparkles."  

"Eheheh, jeez, stoppit. You’re going to get fined for _glittering_."  

"Oh, shush, funny bones." 

This page was, indeed, covered in blue and purple glitter, with a few star stickers…and various pictures of the loving couple out on dates. Smooching in the booth of a restaurant, snuggling on the couch…there was even a very special one in the center depicting the two of them dancing at Alphys and Undyne’s wedding reception. Toriel wore a slinky, deep purple dress and a sparkling necklace, her arm cupped around the shorter skeleton…and Sans leaned close into her shoulder.  

Adorable and heartwarming as it was on its own, what made this image especially wonderful…was that this had been the very first time Sans had worn a dress in a public space. It was a gorgeous royal blue, draped down across her body to her accentuated hips, and she was happily flushing in almost the same shade. Unlike a few of the other photos, they mutually agreed that this one was remarkable and one of the very best of the two of them together.  

"I’m…not sure if I’ll actually fit in that dress again,” Sans bashfully admitted. “Even _after_ …"  

"Perfect excuse to get some new ones!"  

"Heh, I thought you’d say that."  

Toriel shifted her position over the back of the rocking chair and spoke in a little singsong tone. "Because it’s truuuuuuue!"  

Sans could only laugh and comfortingly fold her arms under her chest. The page turned again.  

"There it is…” From within their wide sockets, Sans’s eye-lights glowed a bit brighter, flickering and dancing with awe. Even after all this time, she never ceased to be awestruck at the sight.  

This page was literally filled with hearts–almost every inch…and they all pointed in towards the photograph in the very center…an extremely special photograph indeed.  

A homely orange glow bloomed from the bedroom lamp in the background. Sans stood directly beside the bed, her white tee-shirt bunched up into her bony, raised hands… And there, sitting in the cyan blue bubble extending from her pelvis and encasing her spinal column…was a slightly darker, denser little blue orb with the shape of a tiny, tiny white heart glowing brilliantly from within.  

It had been so miniscule back then…by now, it had almost tripled in size. But it was still incredible to remember…the first moments they’d been able to see the baby soul…truly existing, becoming a _life_ … Sans’s shy, but emotional face in the picture said it all… “This is my child–a beautiful life that we’ve created–and I love it so much. I love this little miracle."  

"I’m glad that’s on a page by itself. It deserves one."  

Toriel’s fuzzy finger, with its curved claw, tenderly traced down the trail of hearts on the page, resting and tapping over the tiny forming soul. "Of course.” There was a meaningful catch at her undertone, tears gathering at the back of her throat. She quickly flipped to the next page.  

For a while, the two of them just gazed silently and reverently at the next few photo collections. They were mostly everyday images–Toriel shopping for a crib, Sans stringing little bones into a mobile, both of them waving in front of the nearly-completed nursery.  

One pair of photos showed Papyrus giving a slightly-larger Sans a big hug, then Sans laughing while her brother proudly posed with one arm wrapped over her shoulders. His red tee-shirt had an arrow pointing up at his face and words reading: “Funkle! (fun uncle)”.  

The very last one showed Frisk and Sans–the small human wrapping their short arms around the bulge of Sans’s belly and snuggling it against their cheek. Sans was just laughing and tousling their hair. At about four months, Sans was quite a bit larger than she’d been in the first soul reveal photo, but not anywhere near her size now. Still, Frisk had been able to fill their arms with her swelling baby belly…though perhaps not every inch of its expansion had been due to the baby’s growth and development.  

Frisk had been fascinated with it at first, having never really experienced a human pregnancy before, much less a monster one. Toriel had tried her best to explain whatever she could, and Sans had let them freely feel her tummy and ask about the baby whenever they wanted. A few times, they’d even tried to communicated with it, or asked Sans to “tell the baby” something. It was painfully adorable, and they were so excited, they were sure to make a wonderful cousin.  

Toriel lingered on the image for just a second longer, before grasping the sharp edge of the page and thoughtfully bending it back at the corner. “Alright, now it’s time for the new stuff. Ready?"  

"Maybe? I dunno.” Sans chuckled, her hefty body shuddering in the rocking chair and moving it a centimeter forward. “Let’s go."  

Toriel grinned, almost mischievously, and turned over to the new page.  

A gasp whistled up through Sans’s ribcage, and her hands clutched up to her teeth, blushing intensely. "Oh gosh, Tori. Oh, geez…I knew this was comin’, but…aw, shucks…" 

The next picture was one she’d specifically posed for… Sans was standing on the beach, her bare toe phalanges squishing into the dark, wet sand. She wore an airy summer dress with patterns of pastel flowers and a beach hat wrapped with a ribbon…and the dress draped beautifully off her round, pregnant belly, which was very clearly visible in the profile angle. The dress’s hem fluttered gently in the ocean breeze. Though clearly a little nervous, she was giving the camera a wonderful, heartfelt smile.  

Toriel had asked her for this picture the second time they’d visited a beach together, but…seeing it like this, framed in the middle of the page, dotted around by seashells and umbrellas, and tucked under the carefully lettered phrase "Family Beach Day!”…poor Sans was just so flustered, honored, and so happy, her insides quivered.  

Toriel kissed over her skull. “You’re beautiful." 

"Aaaah, gosh, nooouuu…” Sans shook her skull. “Why did I ever agree to that?"  

More soft kisses pressed lower, down to the top of her spine, Toriel’s muzzle nuzzling the smooth, warmed bone. "Because you love me. And because you’re gorgeous." 

"Toriiiiiii…” Though the blue of her cheekbones was just as intense as ever, Sans shakily lowered her hands and reached back to stroke Toriel’s chin and the tips of her ears.  

They giggled and affectionately cooed to each other a moment longer, before Toriel pushed away, taking the scrapbook up again and holding it steady for Sans to see. Without comment, she flipped the page…and poor Sans practically imploded.  

“Oh my _God_ , Tori, no. Oh, God. No, no, no, no…. Oh, God. Aaaaaaah, no…"  

She slid her nightgown up and completely buried her face in the collar, although the hem was now edging close to the bottom of her belly. The magic pooling in her cheekbones was so bright, it glowed even through the fabric.  

"I-I thought…” Her voice was so soft and muffled. “I thought you just wanted that for…l-like, _yourself_ …like, _privately_ , not… I-I didn’t know…"  

For the moment, Toriel laid the book down in her lap and used both arms to hold her precious skeleton close, providing comfort and security and reassurance. 

"I-I-It’s…so _embarrassing_ , I can’t…" 

"Shhhhhh.” Toriel shifted, sliding one arm in underneath her and using the rocking chair to rock her slightly in her embrace. “Sans…I want you to know how truly beautiful you are like this. I wish…for you to love your body. Because I do." 

"I-I-I know, Tori, but…"  

"Shhhh. There is no need for such shame.” Tenderly and insistently, Toriel pushed sweet kisses to Sans’s forehead, her shoulder, her buried cheeks. “Your natural beauty and splendor is nothing to be ashamed of and feared. You are so marvellous, Sans. Your body is to be treasured."  

"T-Tori…" 

Lying open at Sans’s knees was the scrapbook, still stuck at that picture. Soft blue clouds and moons and fluffy sheep stickers and pieces of cut paper…decorating the perimeter of a certain photo…  

Sans was half-asleep, curled up in bed, her socket-lids shut…….and she was entirely naked. The healthful, plush cyan-colored gel wrapped warmly around her bones, cushions of comfort and care… The expression in her face was entirely content and serene. And of course, her tummy rounded out, big and bright and healthy and ripe, almost the same size it was now…and the larger, gently glowing little soul was nestled in its gathering pool of deeper magic, somehow looking just as calm and peaceful.  

Perhaps she’d been too sleepy when she’d agreed to let Toriel take this picture…but she’d never expected to see it in the pages of this book. If Tori wanted to look at it every now and then, she’d let her, but… _here_?! 

"I…I have a hard time looking at…myself…like that…y'know? It’s…I’m too…"  

"Too lovely, you mean."  

"Tori…..” Sans’s voice was whispering, struggling to contain her emotions, even as her beloved smothered her cheekbone in kisses. “I don’t deserve…"  

"Hush, hush…” Toriel moved lower, pulling Sans’s whole body against her, leaning in to embrace as much of her as she could. “Oh, Sans, don’t ever say that. You are worth everything, and even more. Sans…"  

A few heartfelt tears bubbled over the ridges of her eye-sockets, but Sans was displaying a shy, pure smile. Her soul pulsed with feeling, and the tiny soul of the new life within her slightly pulsed in resonance.  

"I can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel… It’s so wondrous, it’s too wondrous.” By now, Toriel’s voice had slid into a softer, watery register. Almost as if it would break at any second.  

Her hands rubbed Sans’s little shoulders and travelled down her humerus bones, until they came to rest at her elbow joints. And her head bent in…resting so gently and affectionately on the round shelf of her pregnant belly, nuzzling with her cheek. “You’ve become so, so lovely, Sans. Every day that passes, you grow even more beautiful. I love you so much. I know it might be impossible for you to see what I see…but I wish I could just share that with you, so you might understand. I’m…just so, so very grateful for you…doing this for me. It’s like an amazing, heavenly dream, and you’re making it real. Here, at peace, in this wondrous world… Here, with you, like this…with our child…"  

When Toriel pulled away, the front of Sans’s nightgown was damp with her tears. Though she quickly tried to disguise it with a cough, it was clear from her wavery voice that she’d been crying. For years and years, she’d wanted another child, of course, but…only here, in this situation, with this partner, at this time, had it all been possible. A pure miracle, nothing less. 

A pause, and Toriel couldn’t help it–she bent in again to rub her cheek on Sans’s warm, expansive orb of a belly, her hands also cupping over the curves of the sides. 

Sans was blushing deeply, but fighting overwhelming happiness herself. She reached forward, holding Toriel’s head, playing with her ears and rubbing the back of her neck. "Hey…I’m doing this for myself, too, you know. For both of us. And for the kid. I’ve…I’ve never been so happy before, and you’ve made me so happy…happier than I ever thought I could be. I can’t ever thank you enough either. Tori…" 

And then…just underneath the taut, magical surface beneath Toriel’s cheek, a sudden small bump made her heart dance with joy. Another rub…and the tiny tap came again, cushioned by its encasing softness. The baby soul was nudging up to its second mother, recognizing her nearby energy and her warmth. 

With a final tear in her right eye, Toriel shifted, giving the surface a kiss, right over where she’d felt the nudge. A quiet little "eehee” came from Sans, feeling the movement of the baby as well. 

Toriel rubbed around this precious life-nourishing belly one last time before forcing herself back to her feet and sniffling softly. “Heh. So…yes. That’s why I wanted that picture included."  

Sans’s cheek-bones and her heart were still glowing with love…and she picked up the scrapbook at her kneecaps with trembling phalanges, forcing herself to look at it. Trying to see it as Toriel might… 

"Um……..I guess. Though we might have to hide it when we show the kid how they were born and everything…" 

"Shush. If they’re old enough to learn about monster pregnancies, they’re old enough to see their own mother without any clothes. It’s not provocative in the least. It’s just the natural state of a body." 

"Eheh, if you say so, but I’ll probably still melt into the floor."  

Toriel swooped around to the back of the rocking chair again, playfully snuggling her skull. "Well, then, I’ll just have to scoop you up and re-freeze you again, won’t I?" 

"Heheheh, eeyup!" 

At last, the two of them were beginning to settle down, turbulent, intense emotions calming into silent contentment.  

"If you really, really don’t want it in there, though, I’ll take it out." 

"Nah, it’s fine for now…I’m too lazy to think about it anymore."  

They giggled together once more, before Sans held up the scrapbook for Toriel to see, and turned to the final finished page. "Ah, yes! There they are!"  

This next set of shots was from the baby shower they’d held only five days ago. Every single one of their friends had been there, even including extended acquaintances, like Muffet, Doggo, Monster Kid and his family, and Mettaton, of course. A few Temmies and Froggits had even somehow slipped in. Everyone was laughing and talking and having a great time, and it was just such a great collection of memories. 

They’d borrowed a hall at the school for the event, and the walls and tables were all decorated with ribbons and balloons in purple. Since the gender of their child really didn’t matter to them, they’d decided to use a non-specific gendered color in their decorations. It looked great, thanks to Papyrus and Mettaton, who had helped out the most with setting it up.  

There were some really fun images, such as Sans being ovewhelmed by the pile of gifts, Undyne lifting her up, to everyone’s shocked cheering, and one adorable picture of the whole "family”–Toriel, Sans, Papyrus, and Frisk–in one big, happy group hug. 

The soon-to-be parents swapped stories, lowly chuckling and murmuring to each other. The scrapbook page itself was bright and joyful–various balloons and presents in pastel colors, and confetti pieces taped directly onto the paper. Such a cozy, enjoyable little party… 

Sans thumbed through the remaining multicolored pages in the book, blank and waiting for the future. To be continued. And she was ecstatic for the point in time when they would be filled in.  

“Well, that’s all.” Toriel declared, gently plucking the book from Sans’s phalanges. “For now, at least."  

"You’re doing a great job with it, Tori.” In satisfaction, Sans folded her arms over her belly and closed her eye-sockets. “And all your socks are adorable, too." 

"There’s sure to be more!” With a little twitch in her cotton fluff tail, she skipped back to the shelf to push the scrapbook back into its spot. “I’m having such a great time designing them, you know. Oh!" 

Jolting to attention, her head turned to look at a small silvery clock sitting on a display shelf against the wall. "It looks like that took a bit longer than I’d anticipated. I need to get dinner started!" 

"Yes, please.” Sans smoothed one hand over the front of her big mound of a belly. “We’re starting to get a bit peckish.” Sometimes, she expressed her feelings and desires as if the baby were feeling it too, which Toriel thought was pretty darn cute. 

She glanced back over at her large, beautiful skeleton…to see her sitting up, leaning forward in her rocking chair, stretching out her arms. 

“Help me up, will you?" 

"Oh, dear.” Although she padded up close to her side, Toriel shook her head. “I haven’t even started! It won’t be ready for quite a while." 

"I know.” Sans grinned. 

Neverthless, Toriel obliged, taking her hands and rocking her forward, while she pushed herself up with all her might. It took a few tries, but eventually, they got Sans up on her tiny bone feet. She carefully stretched, balancing her heavy body and lightly cracking her spine. 

“But I wanna watch you cook." 

She couldn’t help it–Toriel burst into laughs. "That’s just going to make you even more hungry, you know." 

"I know.” Sans hugged around the underside of her belly, as if holding it up. “We’re prepared for that. And we wanna see fluffy goat mama work her magic.”    
With a little flutter in her heart, Toriel leaned over to kiss Sans’s cheek. “Awwww. Of course, then, dears. Let’s get started.” And she helped her waddle her way into the dining room. 

While Toriel got set up with her ingredients and pans and spoons and mittens, Sans sank into a chair on the opposite side of the table, barely fitting onto it. But that didn’t stop her from merrily swinging her feet a bit as her lady bustled about the kitchen counter.  

Just a few more weeks… They would spend this time in love and peace, relishing the remaining days of their precious child nestled within Sans’s magical womb. It was something they never would have anticipated…but something they cherished with all of their hearts. A wonderful family and a wonderful life was just on the horizon. And they both knew they’d never forget these feelings, these miraculous moments, for as long as they lived.  


End file.
